


Shadow Of Doubt Over Black Oak Falls

by jessies_girl



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Bottom Jared, Boys Kissing, Cowboys, Frottage, Gangs, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Gunslingers, Horses, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt Jensen, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Mentions of time related homophobia, Minor Character Death, Mutual Masturbation, Red Dead Redemption inspired, Robbery, Semi-Public Sex, Shooting Guns, Slow Burn, Takes place around 1890's, Top Jensen, Torture, Wild West
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2019-10-03 10:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17282285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessies_girl/pseuds/jessies_girl
Summary: Jeff Morgan is the leader of a gang, his own tight knit family of robbers, murderers and gunslingers. While he doesn't have a 'real' family anymore, he has his surrogate sons. Jensen Ackles, whom he took in over ten years ago, when the boy was but a teenager. And Jared Padalecki. His story was similar to Jensen's but he joined Jeff's family a good few years later. While Jensen isn't exactly the forthcoming type about how he felt towards people, Jared is one who'd share even less. So up to today, Jeff still didn't really know what must have happened between the two that they were more than wary of each other with Jared even refusing to use Jensen's first name.His family was not all Jeff had. He had a best friend. Or rather, he used to. Mark Pellegrino and himself had been as tight as they came as young adults. But something happened a while after Jeff took in Jensen and it left the best friends in a bitter feud. They both built their own gangs and were now bitter rivals. Jeff had lost quite a few men to the guns of the Pellegrinos, and vice versa. In fact, Mark was at a point where he would do just anything to get his hands on Jeff's prized pony, or, if he couldn't, to get rid of it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, at the moment I'm totally into playing Red Dead Redemption II. So those of you who know the game and storyline will find I'm leaning heavily on it. 
> 
> But this is not a crossover. As much as I like Arthur Morgan, there's just nothing hotter than cowboy Jensen. Or make that gunslinger. Hope you enjoy this AU as much as I'm enjoying writing it. 
> 
> *** Rating might still change later ***

Jeff Morgan was an early riser. With the slivers of dawn at the horizon he left his tent to make sure there was enough coffee brewing at the camp fire. They hadn't been in this new camp spot too long yet, but after the fiasko at Burlington they had to leave their old spot at Devil's Canyon for good. The heat was just getting too much and he was glad that Jensen and Jared had found this secluded spot at Black Oak Falls. It was perfect. Only accessable from one side, enough lush grass for the horses, and fresh water in walking distance.

Morgan straightened his black vest and reached back inside his tent to get his coat, for this morning air by the waterside was quite chilly. The horses snorted happily at the other side of camp and Jeff trudged on to reach the coffee he needed so much. He found he wasn't the first person up. Besides the guards they always had out, there was Jared already sitting on a log made into a stool by the fire, sipping on the hot, bitter brew.

"Morning sunshine," Jeff greeted and rubbed his fingers together against the chill before taking his tin cup and pouring himself some of Jim's famous blend. 

"Hey Jeff," Jared replied, sounding tired. Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with you, my boy?" He asked before taking his first sip and fighting hard to suppress a moan as the death raiser brew ran down his throat trying to wake the last of Jeff's spirits.

Jared shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

"Still sore from where the bullet winged you last week?" Jeff frowned. When all went to hell in Burlington and they had to shoot their way out of the little town, Jared had taken a slug to the side. Made a long furrow along his ribcage but luckily had just glanced off the bones.

"Maybe."

The boy was as tight-lipped as ever. But before Jeff could get more into the topic, the soft clapping of hooves and Kendrick's "Who goes there?" redirected Jeff's attention to the newcomer.

"It's Jensen," the horseman called back in return and sure enough Jensen's pitch black arabian slowly peeled out from the faint light of dawn. The young man hitched his horse and walked to the back of it to retrieve a rather sizeable buck.

"Mr. Sheppard up yet?" Jensen called in way of greeting and carried the carcass across his shoulders to drop it on the butcher table of Mark Sheppard. Then he returned to his horse to fetch two decent sized turkeys to go with the buck.

"You been hunting at night, boy?" Jeff asked as Jensen returned to his black beast with a bucket of water and some hay.

"Hunting at dawn, Jeff," Jensen replied and joined the coffee drinkers. "Morning Jared."

Jared blinked and seemed to have to force himself to look up. "Ackles," he then nodded reluctantly. Jensen took it in stride. He was used to the younger man's curtness. He accepted a mug of steaming coffee from Jeff and slurped the first few sips.

"And what kept you from sleeping then?" Jeff inquired. 

"Oh I slept," Jensen muttered between sips. Sometimes Jeff could be as overprotective as the mother Jensen hardly remembered. It's what at times drove him to do just the kind of things like an early morning supply hunt. "I needed time to think."

"Time to think?" Jeff parroted. "About wh..."

The last word ran dry as the pounding of a horse galloping at speed drew the attention not only of the guards but also of the three coffee drinkers.

"They got Misha," an out of breath Matt shouted as he jumped off his appaloosa before it had come to a stop. Matt ran up to the three, looking frantic. "I don't know where they were coming from but when we crossed the bridge at Spider Gorge they sprouted like mushrooms from the ground."

"Wait, what? Who has Misha?" Jeff was confused and agitated the same time. Misha Collins was a hot head and didn't care much for listening to orders. But he often provided the gang with info on stage coaches that were worth stopping or similar big loot jobs. On the downside he would sell out his own mother if it saved him.

"The law, Jeff. They're bringing him to jail in Blackberry," Matt was still trying to catch his breath. "I just managed to get away and lose the two uniforms they sent after me."

Immediately Jensen scanned the brush on the outskirts of their camp.

"You haven't been followed?"

"No, Jensen. I lost them way back at Crescent Lake," Matt asserted.

"We cannot afford to have him sell our location, Jeff," Jensen addressed the older man. "We only just got to this place. And it's a perfect hideout."

Jeff nodded and turned to look at Jared. Then he locked eyes with Jensen. "Right. I want you and Jared to ride out to Blackberry. Scope out the place. If you can, get Misha's sorry ass out of jail. But Jensen, make sure you find out if he sang. Because if he did..." Jeff trailed off.

"If he did we have to move before Blackberry sends a damned possé on our asses," Jensen nodded. "But I'll be damned if I'm not tired of saving his ass. Wish we could just let him rot there. Guy gets us into nothing but trouble, Jeff."

"He's part of the family, Jensen. He'd get you out if things were reversed." Jensen sighed. 

"I can get him alone," Jared piped up. "Don't need no help to get one man outta jail." He shot Jensen a dark look.

"Ah, no, Jared," Jeff denied. "It's a town you gotta get Misha from. Not a Pellegrino campsite by the river. You two need to play together to get him out. But for the love of God, I don't know what's going on with you two, but stow it. Maybe I should have Matt..."

"We will get the job done just fine, won't we, Jared?" Jensen cut in.

"Sure, Ackles," Jared shrugged and walked over to where his silver dapple pinto was hitched. Jeff and Jensen stared at his back for a moment.

"Whatever it is, Jensen, sort it out," Jeff said under his breath.

"Hell, I don't know who pissed in his oats, Jeff. But I'll try my best." Jensen sighed and finished his coffee before heading to his own horse. He patted his neck and swung into the saddle. "Sorry, boy, but we gotta ride again."

With that he trotted after Jared who was already heading towards the small entrance path half conceiled by a waterfall. If you didn't know there was a passage from the outside you would never find it. Jensen had only found it when he chased down a buck he had wounded and it seemingly disappeared into thin air.

Once he was through the fall, Jensen spurred his horse into a gallop to catch up to Jared. Quietly they made their way next to each other, only stopping to have a small meal around noon.

"Right, Jared? I figure we'll be in Blackberry in a hoofbeat now. Only been there once and it's not a big place. Not small neither. We pitch up at the sheriff's in two asking bout Misha they'll be suspicious," Jensen stated calmly as they mounted their horses again. Jared nodded and looked at the other man expectantly. "So, I will head in alone and you could snoop around the place, see if you can find where Misha's at, if there's a window or so."

Jared snorted, clearly not happy, shaking his head. "Of course you're gonna talk to the sheriff. Let me do the stooge's work," he muttered.

"Fine. You wanna go in and do the talking? Be my guest." Jensen was slowly losing his patience but knew they'd have to work together to pull this off. Any dispute between them could risk all their lives.

"Nah, it's alright. You already claimed the talk. I'll do the snooping," Jared replied.

"Just don't get ahead of yourself. We gotta stick together."

"Yeah, Ackles. I got it."

"Good. Let's go then." Jensen kicked his horse into motion and off they rode. About a quarter hour later they hitched their horses outside the sheriff's office.

"Eyes open, Jared. And don't draw any unneccesary attention to you."

Jared rolled his eyes and watched as Jensen made his way up the wooden steps and through the door to the office. Then he turned and wandered about, eyes alert, trying to find whatever he could that would help them with their task.

"Howdy, Sheriff," Jensen greeted. A man in his early fifties with greying hair and a mustache looked up. He was sitting at the desk, his hat laying next to him, and by the looks of it he had been talking to his subordinate who was standing at the opposite end of the room, leaning against the wall.

One glance around told Jensen that the cells were not on the same level as the office, but there were stairs leading downwards on the far side. So the holding cells could be down there or in a different building.

"Hello, Sir. How can we help you?" The Sheriff replied, nodding his head at him.

"I was just passing through and heard you got yourself a prisoner who's likely part of a gang. Now I'm working together with the law over in Cedar Peak and they're looking for any Pellegrino boy they can get their hands on. Wondering if I could take a look to see if your guy's one of 'em." Jensen rattled down his story like it was everyday's business and he was actually rather bored with it.

"Cedar Peak?" The Sheriff asked. Jensen nodded. "Tucker Milton still the law there?"

Jensen shrugged. "Last time I checked he was. Of course that was a few days ago and you never know what happens."

"Too true," the Sheriff nodded. "Miles McKinney. Good to meet you, Mr...?"

"Jay Holloway," Jensen replied, shaking McKinney's hand.

"So you're looking for the Pellegrinos, are you?" McKinney asked.

"Sure do, Sheriff. They robbed a few homesteads around Cedar Peak, killed good people. Sheriff Milton wants them gone."

"And I don't blame him," McKinney agreed. "Well, you can take a look at our prisoner, but I'm pretty sure he follows Jeff Morgan, not Mark Pellegrino."

Jensen blinked his eyes. "That so? What makes you think that?"

"Well he was cursing at this other prisoner we got and called him a damned Pellegrino. Everyone know that amongst gangs, the Morgans hate them Pellegrinos the worst."

"Ah, understand," Jensen nodded. "So there's at least one Pellegrino I could take off your hands, Sheriff."

"Theoretically, yes. But them two? We're gonna hang 'em both. You're welcome to..."

Whatever Sheriff McKinney still wanted to say was aborted by a tremendous noise that shook the walls of the whole building.

 

 

TBC

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Whatever Sheriff McKinney still wanted to say was aborted by a tremendous noise that shook the walls of the whole building._

_\---_

 

"What the hell?" McKinney cursed and everyone looked to the stairs where frantic footsteps scrambled up. A dusty, bleeding officer appeared on top.

"The prisoners... someone blew up the wall, the window... whatever. They're escaping!"

McKinney turned to Jensen, eyes narrow.

"You're not from Cedar Peak, are you?"

Jensen swore internally. What the heck had Jared done? He was supposed to wait for him. Slowly Jensen backed his way to the door but the clicking of a gun being cocked made him stop.

"So what are you? Pellegrino? Or Morgan?"

Jensen grit his teeth.

"What difference does that make?" He took another step back.

"Stop right where you are or I'll put a hole in your hide, boy."

Jensen saw that the Sheriff's aide and the guard had run out the door to surely catch Misha again. And Jared. Sheriff McKinney was there, holding him at gunpoint. Both getting caught or getting shot was not an option, so Jensen took a deep breath and moved his hands like he was going to surrender. The second the sheriff relaxed, however, Jensen drew his revolver and fired. 

The sheriff dropped like a stone and the bullet he'd triggered buried itself in the floorboards a few feet in front of Jensen's boots. Gunshots were fired outside now, too, and Jensen didn't waste another second to get there and help his friends.

He saw Jared firing at a handful of lawmen and inhabitants siding with the law from behind an overturned cart while Misha was shooting away from the cover of a dozen or so sacks piled up on each other. A bullet whizzed past Jensen and he ran across the path in a diving slide for cover behind some vats.

Crouching down he found he could take out several shooters and he fired away. More bullets hit the vats now from a different angle which made Jensen look over his shoulder. From behind another building a man was firing at him. Jensen took him out with one shot. It grew quiet for a bit and Jensen made use of the break to cross over to where Jared was.

"What happened?" Jensen asked when he was crouched next to Jared, eyes never leaving the streets.

"Found where they had Misha and blew up the wall. Must have disturbed the guard," Jared shrugged.

"Thought I told you to wait," Jensen replied tersely and fired his gun at a hat that appeared behind the corner of a house.

"Yeah well, I had the opportunity to free him, so I did. You were distracting the sheriff well enough," Jared shrugged. Jensen scoffed. 

Opposite from them, Misha decided to leave his cover and ran along the wall, blindly firing at anything that moved before taking cover again at the next building.

"Where is that fool going now?" Jensen was getting exasperated. They should see that they got out of Blackberry before more law arrived.

"Getting his weapons. Said they got them in that building he's at now," Jared explained.

"Arrrh, that numbnut will get us killed. Weapons can be replaced." Jensen grunted and took out another man. "Where are our horses?"

"Horses can be replaced, Ackles," Jared mimicked Jensen, knowing exactly that Jensen and his horse were a different story. Jensen would do anything to get his horse.

Meanwhile Misha had gained access to the building. Jensen prayed he'd find his stupid guns quickly because a cloud of dust at the other end of the street alerted him to more men coming for them. There was just so much ammunition they had left. Jensen whistled loudly and was elated to hear an answering whinny not far away. 

Firing some decoy rounds at the approaching men, Jensen managed to make them dive for cover just as Misha exited the building with his rifle and two guns. A snort behind the boys let them know the horses were ready.

"Get your worthless ass in the saddle, Collins," Jensen hissed and fired his last rounds in the general direction of their opponents before taking the saddle and racing off. Jared and Misha quickly followed. They knew they had to push their steeds to keep up with Jensen because his Rascal was the fastest horse Jared had ever laid eyes upon.

Bullets whistling through the air escorted them in their flight but soon it grew quiet behind them and Jensen reined his horse in a bit. They kept at it for another five or six miles before stopping to take stock.

"Everyone alright?" Jensen asked. Jared just nodded but Misha grimaced. 

"Think a stray one got me," he hissed, trying to reach for his shoulder.

"Let me see." Jensen moved his horse a bit closer to Misha and examined the wound.

"You're lucky. It's just a scratch," he then declared. "And serves you right. What did you have to go for your guns for?"

"They're mine. I wanted them back, dimwit," Misha shot back. Jensen just shook his head. 

"Sure you did," he sighed. "Alright, you two go on ahead. I'll hang back and make sure nobody follows us."

Jared looked like he wanted to object, but kept quiet and just looked at Misha.

"Right, you coming?"

Jensen watched the two ride off and then steered his Rascal to the side of the road, taking cover in some brush. He'd observe the street for a while and then take the longer way back, just in case.  

 

***  

 

Dusk was approaching when Jensen was finally getting close to their hide-out. It was still light enough to ride at speed but the sun was going to set soon. After leaving a woodland area he approached some crossroads when he noticed something unusual. A carriage was stopping right in the middle of said crossroads. It could mean nothing. Or it could be an ambush.

Jensen slowed his horse to a trot and then to a walk, slowly approaching the carriage while assessing the situation. There was one man on the coach box. He couldn't see if anyone was inside. He grabbed his modified Springfield rifle and held it ready without being obvious. On the other side of the crossroads were more trees and just as Jensen wondered who was hiding in there he heard a loud voice call out.

"It's him! It's Morgan's prized pony! Let's get him, boys!"

And then all hell broke loose. Horses with riders shooting at him dashed out of the trees. The coach driver and several men on the inside opened fire at him. Jensen returned fire in their direction and pulled Rascal around. He didn't even have to spur him on. That horse knew it was supposed to run.

Jensen knew when to fight and when to retreat. He was a good shot and never afraid to stand his ground but right now he was badly outnumbered and without cover. The speed of his horse was his only advantage and he bent down low to reduce him being a target and give Rascal less resistance to run.

After picking up speed, Jensen turned around, aiming at the rider closest to him. Bullets were flying past his head and he hoped none would hit his horse. When he pulled the trigger, his closest pursuer fell.  Rascal whinnied and jerked forward and Jensen felt a punch on his left arm as they re-entered the forest they had left before the ambush.

Gritting his teeth, Jensen fired three more times and then concentrated on steering his faithful horse through the maze of trees off the track. He kept this up for a few minutes before turning to check on his pursuers. Rascal's speed had proved vital once more. Jensen was alone. When he stopped the horse to listen for hoofbeats, there was nothing to be heard.

"Good boy," Jensen lauded his horse, patting his neck. When he bent down to tuck the rifle in the saddle holster, he noticed a small patch of glistening moisture on Rascal's coat that had a different sparkle to it than sweat. He touched his hand to it and it came back red.

"I'm gonna kill them next time around," Jensen growled as he probed the gash. Luckily it seemed quite superficial and just grazed some fur and skin away. Still, Jensen would get some salve on it back at the camp.

"Let's go home, boy," Jensen told the horse. It had been a long day. He was getting tired. And his arm hurt.  

 

***

 

"Alona? Al.. Allie?" Kim Rhodes called the young woman who was staring at the exposed gash on Misha's shoulder. Allie looked up and at Kim who was slightly shaking her head at her. "You gotta stop daydreaming, girl. Go and get me something to clean and stitch this."

Allie frowned. "Wasn't daydreaming," she muttered before turning to do as she was asked.

"Well if you weren't then what brought on that look? You ain't squeamish, are ya?"

Allie huffed and stalked off.

"You know you don't really have to stitch this," Misha said and turned his head trying to look at the wound.

"Shut your mouth, you fool," Kim Rhodes replied with a reprimand. "If you hadn't let your scrawny ass get caught in the first place I wouldn't have to put up with your whining now."

"I...," Misha started but Jeff cut in. 

"I wouldn't say another word if I were you. She's got the mean brandy there. You don't want her to pour that into your wound instead of dabbing it, do you?"

"Bollocks," Misha growled and squeezed his lips shut tightly. He hated stitches. Allie returned with the requested items and Kim went to work immediately.

"So, tell me again why it was necessary for Jensen to watch if you were being followed," Jeff looked at Misha who was trying his darndest not to look at the needle in Kim's hand. 

"Don't look at me like that, Jeff. Had to get my guns, you know that."

"Guns can be replaced, Misha," Jeff replied, getting a scoff from Jared.

"Now you sound like Jensen," he said under his breath.

"Jensen said that? Well, why didn't you listen then? Is it because _he_ said it or because you don't agree?" Jeff was really getting annoyed with the rebellious streak Jared seemed to have developed to anything Jensen said or did. Jared glared back at him.

"Look, I had the opportunity to get Misha out. Was no way it could have been done quietly. So I did it right away. Got the job done. Misha's out, had no time to sing. Nobody followed us. We shouldn't show our faces anywhere near Blackberry for a while but we're back in one piece."

"You two are back. Jensen isn't," Jeff declared, jabbing his index finger at Jared's shoulder. Jared shrugged.

"I'm sure he took the scenic route. Always does," Jared shrugged. Jeff looked around. Kim just tied off the last knot on Misha's fixed up shoulder, Allie held out whatever was needed to wrap the wound and a few steps further off, Matt, Kendrick, Jim and Fred Lehne were trying not to let anyone notice that they were very interested in what Jeff and Jared were working each other up about.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Jared? In my tent?" 

Jared knew it wasn't a request and reluctantly followed Jeff.

"Look. I don't know what is up with you and Jensen, but it's getting worse not better. You two are like sons to me and I really don't know what happened. Jensen either doesn't know or doesn't wanna tell. Yeah, I asked him. You used to be close. And now you're hardly giving him the time of day. I've been watching you both. I haven't seen anything that would explain this. I thought sending you two to get Misha would help things along. I guess I was mistaken. So I'm telling you now what I told him. Work. It. Out."

Jeff finished his little speach and watched Jared's reaction. Or at least he tried to but the young man's face didn't betray any emotions. After a moment of silence, Jeff turned and walked away. Jared stared at his feet for a few seconds and walked off, too.

 

***

 

About an hour after Kim had finished stitching up Misha there was laughter and song by the camp fire along with brandy and moonshine. Kendrick was strumming the guitar and Mark Sheppard and Fred were trying to outdo each other making up new lines to old songs.

Jeff was standing close by, watching his men, especially Jared, who seemed to try and join in the singing. Jim and Matt were laughing at drunk Rich's attempt to uncork an already empty bottle and Alex, their youngster, was already snoring where he was propped up against a vat.

"Who's there?"

Allie's voice filled the silence between songs and Jeff looked up in a squint, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark after looking at the fire lit surroundings the last moments.

" 's just me," a familiar voice replied and Jeff took a deep breath. Jensen was back. Finally. 

Jeff watched as Jensen walked to his tent and picked something out of his chest before heading back to his horse. He returned a few minutes later and Jeff was waiting for him to join the group around the fire but Jensen never came. Eventually Jeff got up and went to check on his boy.

Jensen was laying stretched out on his back on the cot and stared at the cougar skull under the tent roof.

"Everything alright, son?" 

Jensen stared ahead.

"Yeah," he mumbled. Jeff cocked his head in disbelief.

Jensen blinked and turned his head to look at Jeff.

"I wouldn't relax here if things weren't alright," he stressed.

"Somehow you don't look relaxed at all, Jensen," Jeff pointed out. "What happened?"

"Why don't you ask Jared what happened?"

"Oh, I did. He said there was no other way to help Misha."

"That what he said?" Jensen sat up abruptly. "Really?" Jeff nodded. Before he'd even finished nodding Jensen brushed past him and towards the fire. He stopped just in front of where Jared was sitting.

"So there was no other way to get Misha out? You had to blow up the jail?"

Jensen had his hands balled to fists and was clenching and unclenching them as he spoke.

"Chill out, Ackles. We got him back. We got here safely. What does it matter how it was done?"

"Oh yeah, that's right. It doesn't matter. You know I really had it up to here with your attitude, Jared. Your whole aim in life seems to be making me pay for something I don't even know I did. You contests each and every word I say, you don't care about my opinion and you sure as hell purposefully do the opposite of what I said."

Jensen's voice had gained in volume as he ranted at the other man. The camp had become quiet but for the crackling of the fire. 

"Would it have killed you to wait until I had finished talking to the sheriff? Would it have made a difference for that fool Misha to wait another hour? We could have worked up a way to get him free without having to shoot the whole place to hell!"

"Is that right?" Jared shouted back, getting up from where he was sitting on the log until he glowered down into Jensen's angrily flashing eyes. "It was a freaking stone wall. How did you want to get him out? Dig a tunnel? That would have caught nobody's attention, eh?"

"The sheriff was going to let me see the prisoners, Jared. I could have taken a hostage to get Misha free and we could have just ridden out of there with no to little bloodshed. But of course you couldn't wait, could you? You're nothing but a spoiled child, and I don't care if you're legally an adult."

Jared's blood was boiling at being called a child. He was angry. What right did Ackles have to call him that in front of the whole camp? For a moment Jared wanted to punch Jensen out but he knew Jeff would tan his hide and put him on guard duty for the rest of his life. Instead, Jared gritted his teeth and pushed Jensen back hard.

Jensen just took two steps back to catch himself before advancing into Jared's space and grabbing him by the lapel of his buck skin coat and pulled him away from the fire.

"Boys! Stop this right now!" Jeff shouted but the two grappled on a short while before Jensen had his fist right under Jared's nose. 

"Push me one more time, Padalecki, and I'll break your snotty nose," he snarled. Then he let go of the younger man who looked at Jeff before stepping back into the shine of the fire. Jared's hand felt sticky from where he had grabbed Jensen's shirt and he held it to the light to examine it. His eyes widened slightly.

"You're bleeding," Jared stated, looking at Jensen a few steps away. Jensen huffed.

"What do you care?"

Jensen turned once more and walked back to his tent. Jared stared at his retreating back, foot twitching to go after him. Of course he cared. No matter what, he'd always hated seeing Jensen hurt. What made it worse now was the hollow feeling it was his fault. Looking down he felt Jeff's and everyone else's eyes on him so he acted like it didn't bother him. He had to keep up appearances after all and he'd be damned if he went over to check on Jensen.  

Jeff eyeballed Jared until the younger man looked up. He quickly averted his eyes, not wanting to give Jeff a chance to read his emotions. Then he took a few steps backwards before turning and walking off.


	3. Chapter 3

The past few days Jeff Morgan had been watching his boys trying to make sense of what was going on. Jensen had patched up his bullet hole with a little help from Allie while Jared had stared at them from a distance, brooding over whatever. Jensen had continued to stay clear of Jared while Jared had taken to watch Jensen's every step. It just didn't add up. Jared usually just glared at the other man and now he looked like a worried brother. Jeff shook his head. This had been going on far too long. He definitely had to get them to fix whatever broke and make sense of it all.

It was just after dusk and most men were gathered around the camp fire eating whatever was left of Sheppard's stew of the day. Venison it was, Jeff believed. Kendrick was strumming around on Jim Beaver's guitar with Matt watching closely, Mrs. Rhodes was telling stories to the other girls, Misha was onto the second bottle of guarma rum and Allie was staring holes through the darkness in direction of Jensen's tent. The only thing Jeff wasn't certain of was whether Jared would accomplish that first. 

Jensen had been making a point of being absent from the camp as much as possible. When he'd returned about three hours ago it was to drop a bull elk carcass at Sheppard's butcher table and then heading to his tent to 'catch up on the beauty sleep he hadn't had for thirty-six hours'. Misha had made a remark about how in vain that would be 'cos no amount of sleep would fix the scars in his face' but Jensen had ignored him and headed for his bedroll.

The later the hour grew the more intoxicated everyone, especially Misha Collins, became. Songs were being sung and even Jared croaked along. Jeff was satisfied. The boy needed to loosen up a bit. Maybe it would loosen his tongue as well. Turned out, the really loose tongue belonged to Misha. He started harrassing Allie who finally grabbed the open rum bottle from him and poured the remaining contents onto Misha's head. Kim Rhodes and the girls applauded her and Misha pulled a face.

"Tha' gurl's like d'namite, Jeff, lemme tell ya," Misha slurred grumpily.

"Well, try not to blow yerself up then," Jeff replied.

"Nooo," Misha pulled his face to a loony grin. "I do know s'methin' we can blow 'p, tho."

"That right?" Jeff baited.

"Hmmm, yeah. P'ty we don' got any 'mite," Misha said, trying to roll his heavy tongue around the words. "Good thin' I know where ta g't s'me."

"You know where to get dynamite?" Jeff was suddenly very interested.

"Hmmmm," Misha grinned, swaying. "Train c'min' thru eeeaaarly with 'xplosives for th' army," he spilled. Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"How early, pray tell."

"Dawn," Misha said and blinked. "But's 'n hour out, up by Hawkin's Station."

Jeff glanced around. The girls had long retired to their tents, young Alex as well as Matt and Kenny, too. Jared was still nursing a bottle while alternately staring into the fire and at Jensen's tent. Checking his pocket watch, Jeff found it was amost two in the morning. If they wanted that dynamite, they should ride soon enough. Going by experience, three men should be enough to hold up a train like that. 

Staring into the fire a bit, Jeff pondered who to send. He himself would check out the bank he planned on using some of the explosives for. Misha was drunk off his ass and wouldn't be up to it, and same probably was about Jared. Matt and Kenny would do, but young Alex was too inexperienced. Jeff cocked his head and then kicked at Misha's booted foot.

" 's tha' for," Misha muttered, looking at Jeff with bleary eyes.

"Gonna send Matt, Kenny and Jensen up for the job. You get the honors of waking Jensen," Jeff explained.

"The fuck, Jeff. 'S my gig. I got all th' intel," Misha wasn't impressed.

"You fool are too drunk to even stay on your horse till Hawkin's Station. You can go scope out the bank in Williamsburg with me in the morning. Now go wake 'em boys," Jeff said in a tone that allowed no arguing. Misha wasn't happy but his last functioning brain cell told him Jeff was right.

"Whatever you say, boss," he mumbled and dragged himself up to his feet before heading in the general direction of Jensen's tent.

 

*****

 

_Jensen's eyes were glued to the pronghorn tracks in the dusty ground before him. Him and Jared had been following them for a while and it finally looked like they were getting close. There were several animals in the group, Jensen estimated at least five to seven. They needed to bring some decent meat from the hunt for the camp was running low on supplies._

_Bringing his mare to a stop, he dismounted and collected his repeater rifle while Jared followed suit. The tracks divided, leading in different directions around the sizable rock structure they had come to._

_"Let's leave the horses and follow on foot. Most tracks lead to the right so that's where we'll go," Jensen told Jared in a low voice. "If we can both get one of them pronghorns, that should last us a few days."_

_Jared nodded and took off, his rifle at the ready. Jensen watched the youngster for a moment and then focused on the tracks, leading the way. Jared stayed right on his heels. They didn't have to go far to see a group of three pronghorns grazing on a rare patch of grass. Jensen kneeled and lined up his rifle, while Jared followed suit, taking aim on the biggest of the animals._

_"I'll take the one over there," Jensen whispered. "Just aim for one of the others."_

_"Okay," Jared replied and leveled his rifle. Then he nodded._

_"On three," Jensen whispered and started counting softly. The shots rang out, two pronghorns fell and then all hell broke loose._

_As Jensen got up to retrieve their prey, he'd only taken a few steps when Jared cried out in pain. Turning, Jensen saw Jared on the ground with a big mountain cat mauling away at him. On instinct he leveled his gun again but he was scared he'd hit Jared in the moving mess. So Jensen dropped the gun and threw himself onto the cougar while drawing his hunting knife._

_Locking his arms around the cougar, Jensen managed to roll it off and away from Jared, but now the predator was turning on him. They came to a stop with the cat on top of him and immediately Jensen felt lines of fire spreading over the left side of his face. Those cougar claws were sharp as knives._

_Jensen gripped his knife tighter, feeling the hot, acrid breath of the mountain cat hitting his face. From close up the fangs looked even bigger than Jensen imagined and he sure as hell wasn't interested in having them ripping out his throat. Determined he thrust out his left hand to keep the head at distance while his right with the knife stabbed blindly in the general area of the ribs._

_He felt his blade enter the cat's sleek body, but it immediately slid off the ribcage. The cougar howled in pain and dug it's claws into the skin by Jensen's hip. Jensen withdrew the knife again and repeated the stabbing over and over until on the third attempt he felt the blade slide between the ribs and in to the hilt. The massive head of the cougar dropped onto Jensen's and banged his skull into the hard ground. Then it lay still._

_Jensen took a few frantic breaths and tried to get himself out from under the dead beast, when a heavy thump hit his shoulder. Shit, was there another one? Panicking, Jensen struck out and the cat shouted at him._

"For fuck's sake, Ackles, I still need them jewels!"

Jensen's eyes flew open and he realized he was laying on his bedroll in his tent with Misha Collins crouching next to him, cupping his balls.

"The fuck you doing in my tent, numbnuts," Jensen growled.

"Well I di'n't c'me here to get castrated, asshole. Jeff said t' wake y'r sorry ass up," Misha wheezed.

"You're drunk, Collins. Piss off." Jensen hissed. "And don't flatter yourself. I didn't hit you that hard."

"What do you know," Misha spat. "Wh't were ya dreamin' bout anyways? A girl tellin' ya you ain't adequate 'nough?"

"What? That what they say to you, Collins? Must be tough to hear. Then again we don't really need any more of your type prowling about. Now leave."

Misha glared at him, the veins in his neck bulging out. His one hand balled into a fist, but the other was still busy cupping his dick and so the threat didn't have the desired effect. He turned and left, not without spitting noisily on the ground outside the tent.

Jensen smirked briefly and then let himself fall back onto his bedroll. His eyes fell on the cougar skull and out of their own volition his fingers reached up to trace the three gouges the claws had left behind in his face, disrupting the growth of stubble in three places. The relived attack quickly flashed across his mind once more so Jensen shook it off and got up. If Jeff really wanted him up he'd better go and see what needed to be done.

*****

 

"So, you want us three to hold up that train and relieve it of the explosives so we can rob a bank?" Jensen repeated Jeff's story, reluctance obvious in his voice and posture.

"It's just one more heist, Jensen. One more. It will get us enough money to leave these rolling hills behind once and for all. We can go up north, build a life. No more bounties, no more shootings..."

Jensen shook his head. "It's always just one more with you, Jeff. One more now. And then something goes wrong, we're on the run and oh, yes... I forgot. You have a plan."

"What's with the doubting, Jensen. You're right, I have a plan. You just need to have a little faith, son," Jeff implored with a frown.

"Damn, if he won' go, I will," Misha called. " 's my gig 'nyways."

"Is that right, Collins? So I can get you outta jail again next week?" Jensen shot back. "I'm tired of saving your ass."

"Boys!" Jeff stepped forward, effectively cutting off Misha's advance on Jensen. "It's decided. Jensen, Kenny and Matt get the dynamite at Hawkin's Station. Misha, you and Jared accompany me to Williamsburg after dawn."

Jeff held Misha's stare, his demeanor allowing no contradictions. Jensen smiled to himself and turned to walk over to Rascal to get him ready. Twenty minutes later the three left Black Oak Falls.

"So, Jensen," Matt spoke up once they hit the main road. "Did you really punch Misha in the balls?"

Jensen chuckled.

"He deserved it for sneaking in my tent like that. Rule number one. If you wake someone from a nightmare, stay out of punching distance."

"Now what would you have nightmares about?" Kenny inquired. 

"Believe me, I got plenty of material for that," Jensen replied, the mirth fading from his voice. 

"Any of them to do with them scars?" Matt indicated Jensen's face.

Jensen rolled his eyes and gave a soundless laugh. "Funny you should ask that."

Matt and Kenny shared a silent look. Both of them were just about a year with the gang and although everybody knew everyone they only knew a few stories from years before. Like how Jeff and Mark Pellegrino used to ride together and how they ended up mortal enemies. Like how Jeff had taken in a twelve year old Jensen and treated him like a son. How he'd done the same thing with Jared several years later. 

Both Matt and Kenny had lost their families and came across Jeff when they were at their lowest. He'd taken them in like he did with strays, as Jeff called them. The man had a talent to make people be loyal to him. Of all the members of their group it was Misha who had been there already before the feud with Mark Pellegrino, as well as Jensen. Everyone else had arrived after the big fallout.

And now, Jeff had a plan, Misha was almost always drunk, the Pellegrinos were out to kill anyone who followed Jeff Morgan and Jared tried to kill Jensen with looks. A real messed up situation. Matt had a feeling that pressing Jensen about the nightmare wasn't the best idea. So he opted for another topic.

"Then how about me asking another question. Why does Jared hate you so much?"

"Oh, you have to be kidding me," Jensen muttered. "I'm not gonna talk about Jared. And even if I knew what's going on in his head, I wouldn't put it on the bulletin board."

They rode a few minutes in silence but Matt wouldn't be discouraged from trying to get something out of Jensen. 

"I know it ain't much of my business, Jensen," he started, "but considering it might affect the gang it kinda is, too. It's not about Allie, is it?"

Jensen pulled on the reins to stop Rascal, forcing Matt and Kenny to follow suit.

"Allie?" Jensen sounded confused. "What on earth would Allie have to do with that?"

"Um...," Matt muttered. "Well, Allie... I think Jared has a crush on her. I mean, he keeps watching her and stuff, mostly with a frown, but... he watches. And then Allie, she keeps watching you. So my guess is, Jared's mad at you cos Allie has her eyes on you and not him."

Jensen looked at Matt and saw he was serious. And then he burst out laughing. 

"What's so funny?" Matt frowned.

"Allie, she's like my little sister," Jensen shrugged. "And even if you're right, I can't figure Jared to be mad at me for it. It ain't my fault. No, it's gotta be something else."

Matt shrugged. "Maybe. So why was it funny I asked about the scars?"

Jensen stared at Matt and then quickly glanced at Kennie. "You're not gonna let it go, are you?"

Matt shrugged and grinned crookedly.

"Right, if I tell you, will you shut up and concentrate on the job?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Matt swore and went through the motions. Jensen rolled his eyes.

"Nobody's gonna die, if I can help it." Then he took a deep breath. "Well, it was funny because the scars were part of that nightmare. Got them saving Jared's ass some years back. There was a time we were good, ya know. It's only the last year he's grown distant. Ever since he dragged his sorry ass back to camp."

Matt and Kenny had heard the story about that, but they hadn't been with the gang at that point yet, only got picked up shortly thereafter.

"So... you save his skin and he treats you like that?" Matt shook his head as Jensen nodded. "What'd ya save him from anyways?"

Jensen licked his lips and recounted the events he had relived the night as briefly as possible. When he had finished, Kenny let out a low whistle.

"Holy Christ on a cracker," he said and then scrutinized Jensen's cheek again. "That must have hurt like hell."

"It did. Kitty scratched me good. Now shut up and quit staring, boys," Jensen replied and kicked Rascal into a gallop.

They reached Hawkin's Station half an hour before dawn. It was an isolated spot, not directly tied to a town and thus rarely had townfolks getting on or off. Especially not at that time of the day. The station itself was only manned by a clerk for tickets and mail and three or for hands to keep it save when the train was loaded with payrolls... or explosives.

"Let's hide the horses behind those bushes over there," Jensen instructed and Matt hurried to comply. When he returned, Jensen laid out his plan.

"Right, boys. As Jeff suspected, there are four soldiers here. Probably a few more on the train. We should incapacitate the clerk and the guards and then disguise ourselves."

"Like soldiers?" Kenny asked.

"Like soldiers," Jensen confirmed. "The train stops, we enter. By the time they'll know we ain't the real soldiers, we should have them all tied up. We collect the dynamite, and maybe some cash if the train carries, and off we go."

"Sounds easy enough," Matt nodded.

"It kinda is, if everything goes to plan. It's just as well that we don't have to bother with a hothead like Misha," Jensen mumbled. "Okay, you boys ready?"

Taking out the clerk was simple enough and the three found that knocking out and tying up the soldiers proved almost too easy to be true. Pulling the military hat as deep down as possible, Jensen put on a uniform jacket and buttoned it up. The whistle of the train approaching could be heard in the distance.

"Matt? Kenny? Get ready. Follow my lead."

A minute later the train had come to a stop and Jensen entered, the boys in tow. Heading to the front of the train, he took out two guards in the second wagon before entering the first one that carried the desired cargo.

"Captain," the soldier at the door greeted with a salute as he saw the markings on the uniform Jensen wore. Jensen nodded and saw that besides the guard there were two more. The wagon was lit and if they stepped in it would be noticed they weren't really military. So when the guard turned his back on Jensen to talk to his mates, Jensen brought up his weapon and smashed it down hard to the back of the man's head. The soldier dropped like a stone.

"Alright, soldiers. This is a hold-up! Get those pretty hands up in the air!"

 


	4. Chapter 4

"Alright, soldiers. This is a hold-up! Get those pretty hands up in the air!"

Three pairs of eyes settled on Jensen, or rather the pistol he had trained on the soldiers. Four hands were slowly raised while one soldier was trying for hero and went to draw his own gun. Firing his weapon into the air halted the movement as the man glared at Jensen.

"Jim, Joe, tie them up. If they try anything, put them to sleep."

Jensen waited until Matt had hogtied the first soldier and turned to the next one before using his knife on the crate at the side of the wagon to pry it open. The wood splintered and eight sticks of dynamite were passed on to Kendrick who stowed them in his satchel.

Spotting another crate, Jensen made short work of the wood once more, producing another eight sticks of explosives. Kenny stowed them away while Jensen double checked the bonds and gags on the soldiers. With a grin he got up, satisfied they wouldn't get loose anytime soon.

Matt and Kenny were already on their horses when Jensen reached the door but as he was about to step outside he noticed something half hidden behind the open door. Yet another wooden crate, this one about half the size of the ones carrying the explosives. Curiosity stirred and Jensen produced his knife one more time to pry open this crate as well.

"Whatcha got there, Jack?" Matt called.

"Hell and damnation," Jensen swore and gave an appreciative whistle before stowing his loot into his satchel. Behind him the soldiers who were awake grunted through their gags, clearly unhappy at the discovery of a small treasure. 

Jensen stepped outside and locked the wagon before entering the engine car and starting the train. Slowly the wheels started turning and he whistled for Rascal. The horse quickly galloped next to the moving train and Jensen jumped into the saddle. Soon he had rejoined Matt and Kenny.

"A job well done, boys," he called as he pulled Rascal to a sliding stop.

"Come on, Cougar Bait, tell us what you found that put a smile as wide as Texas on your face," Kenny chirped curiously.

Jensen just shook his head at the nickname and stuffed his hand down his satchel to pull out a peach sized gold nugget. He tossed it in the air briefly and caught it smoothly.

"See this beauty? There are four more resting in my bag. I'm sure Jeff won't mind some extra funds," he grinned.

"Ay, caramba!" Matt added an appreciative whistle to underline his Spanish. "I would say this has been a most successful hold-up. But I still think we should've offed them soldiers. They'll talk all about Jack, Joe and Jim who robbed them. They'll be keeping their eyes open for our heads."

"They must know those are fake names," Kenny interjected.

"But these are not fake faces," Jensen replied, waving his open hand in front of his face. "Still, as long as they don't know the faces belong to Matt, Kenny and Jensen they won't know where to start looking. And at any rate, it was dark, we wore hats - it's not that easy to memorize a face perfectly in these circumstances. We should be safe."

"Agreed," Matt nodded. "Now come on and let's get our loot home. Hopefully Jeff, Jared and Misha will be successful with their trip, too."

Jensen rolled his eyes at Misha's name and urged Rascal into a gallop, Matt and Kenny in his wake.

 

*****

 

It was late afternoon and Jeff and his little scouting possé still had to return from Williamsburg. Jensen and the boys had caught up on some sleep and were now discussing possible strategics for the upcoming bank heist with the rest of the camp.

 "You know, boys, it's all good and well what you're suggesting," Kim Rhodes said after hearing about four different ideas. "But you know Jeff's favorite way is guns blazing. So don't get all teary eyed if he doesn't pay any heed to your suggestions."

Jensen rolled his eyes and sighed. "He better be listening because, knowing Williamsburg as I do, it's not the kind of place you can just sneak up and blow a hole in the back of the bank and then run away with the gold. It's bordering the Arrowhead Lake, meaning there's not too many directions you can use to escape. This should better be well planned."

Approaching hoof beats halted the debate and everyone turned to see Jeff and Misha riding up to the hitching posts. They secured the horses and Alex rushed over with some hay for them. Jeff and Misha headed straight for the wooden table everyone was sitting around.

"Where's Jared?" Matt asked.

"Left him up in Williamsburg to keep observing," Jeff explained. "Any information he can gather is helpful. Did you get the dynamite?"

The last part was directed at Jensen, who refrained from rolling his eyes at the question. If Jeff sent him to do a job, the job would be done. Properly. Jensen nodded and pulled his hand out of the satchel, keeping his fingers closed around the item in it.

"Of course. Sixteen sticks the length of your forearm," he informed. "Plus, five of these beauties." 

With that Jensen slowly uncurled his fingers to reveal the shiny nugget. Misha's eyes grew big and Jeff hissed in surprise.

"Well, hello, sweetheart," Jeff cooed and took the gold from Jensen's hand. "Five of them, you say?" 

Jensen nodded. "Thought funds are always welcome."

"Oh, they are. I figure these will go for a hundred bucks each, maybe more," Jeff replied, still engrossed in checking out the gold. "Damn good job, boys!"

"Now what's the plan regarding that bank, Jeff?" Allie asked.

Jeff put down the nugget and looked up, seeing ten pairs of eyes glued to him. He chuckled and then shrugged.

"Well, Williamsburg being a medium sized town with plenty of farming life around is kinda sleepy around noon. Bank's about the size back in Blackberry, usually got two clerks working as well as a two security guards. However," Jeff halted a fee moments for suspense," around lunch time, there's only one of each. One security, one clerk. Perfect time to blow up the back of the bank and bag what's in the saves."

"Wait up," Jensen said, holding up his hand. "Isn't the back of the bank facing the lake?"

"Sure is, son," Jeff smiled.

"Right, are we gonna escape by boat then?"

Jeff's smile faded and a frown took it's place. "Now why would you think that?"

"Well, I've been to Williamsburg once or twice. Not only is the back of the bank facing the lake but it's also on kind of a semi-island. Not much space to ride our horses through when the whole town has been alerted by those explosions."

"Jensen, noon! At noon, almost nobody is there," Jeff reiterated.

"Oh, they will be there faster than you can clap your hands if you blow up the bank like that. And then it's either we got a boat waiting or we swim. Last time I checked, Misha wasn't the keenest swimmer. And neither are you."

Jeff braced his chin with his hand, brooding for a while. Then he looked at Misha.

"Why didn't you think of that, Collins?"

"Me?" Misha's eyes grew big with astonishment.

"Yeah, you," Jeff replied. "You keep telling it's your gig, think about it."

"Wait, wait, wait. The dynamite was my gig. This bank, it's your plan, Morgan. So don't piss me off. I'll just say if it involves water, count me out."

"You men are going on like little kids," Kim Rhodes said, shaking her head. "I'm beginning to think it'd be better if Allie, Ruthie and I plan the heist."

Ruth Connell looked up from where she was darning one of Jeff's torn shirts, eyes wild like a cornered deer.

"What?" She shrieked.

"I'm just kidding, Ruthie," Kim smiled. 

"I bet I could come up with a better plan than Jeff," Allie muttered. "All men can think of is guns blazing. Ever thought maybe some cunning in there could be less bloodie and more successful?"

"All the time, Allie," Jensen drawled and then looked at Jeff. "I'd say we take Allie and meet Jared wherever you left him. I have an idea."

"Oh, no you don't," Misha growled. "Not without me at any rate."

"Why, I thought this wasn't your gig, Collins?" Jensen retorted.

"I'm coming," Misha hissed.

"Boys!" Jeff shouted. "Quit fighting. I think you're right, Jensen. We should take Allie. But Misha is coming. We need a little bit of firepower even if we do it your way, Jensen, don't we?"

"Guess so," Jensen shrugged, not trying to hide his annoyance at Misha's upcoming involvement.

"Great, then let's hope Sheppard made some tasty stew and get a good night's sleep so we can leave in the morning." Jeff looked around to see everyone nodding in agreement.

 

*****

 

The small group around Jeff headed for Williamsburg at dawn the following day and met up with Jared well before noon. Jared had his camp up a bit outside of town on a hill overlooking the main part of Williamsburg. 

After Jeff had queried Jared about anything useful he had still found out, Jensen went to stretch his muscles, stepping away from the camp. He got his binoculars from his satchel and observed the town, especially the surroundings of the bank. 

Williamsburg had grown slightly since he'd last set foot there but Jensen was happy to see that the area that was important to them, surrounding the bank, hadn't changed at all. On the far side was the sheriff's office as well as the jail and it seemed that Jeff had been mostly right with their observations. Even well before noon the town seemed to be sleepy as ever.

"Jensen, my boy," Jeff called. "Come on over here, we need to discuss that idea of yours."

Stowing the binoculars away, Jensen joined the others, smirking wryly as he noticed both Misha and Jared scowling at him. Those two didn't often see eye to eye but they seemed to have a consensus about not liking Jeff's prized pony.

"Well then, master planner, share your brilliant thoughts," Misha urged him, trying to sound bored while lighting a cigarette.

"Shut up, Misha," Allie said, shaking her head. Misha pouted, which made him look like he was about to cry. Jensen chose to ignore him and looked at Jeff.

"Right. You've seen that due to the location, there's only about three ways we can get out of here. North, past the sheriff's office, southbound right from the bank, past the saloon. I do think though, that's where the other security guard and some lawmen will be enjoying their lunch... or east, via boat. I don't think past the sheriff would be the smart option and since none of you like the water much, south is the logical choice."

Jeff nodded and in his peripherals, Jensen saw Allie and Jared also nodding. Only Misha remained mule faced. 

"Allie here said we should use our heads instead of our guns. Or at least, more than the guns. I was thinking we go to the bank, pretending to enquire about a loan."

"A loan? Are you loco?" Misha shook his head. "So you wanna go there and ask for a few hundred bucks and be happy with that, just so they won't chase us?"

"Let him finish, you dumbwit," Allie raised an eyebrow.

"It's okay, Allie. That fool just likes to jump the gun," Jensen said trying to keep things calm. Just what had Jeff been thinking taking Collins with? "Like, Allie and one of us can pose as a couple, recently married, wanting to buy some land or a small farm. The other three stay outside, looking bored. When the clerk is getting the papers ready, Allie will sneeze. That means two of us stroll in, too, leaving one lookout. It shouldn't be hard to knock out the guard and the clerk, tie them up nicely. Then we blow up the saves and stash whatever is in there."

Jensen paused, seeing Jeff, Jared and Allie nodding. Even Misha had lost his sour look.

"The explosion will bring the law out, so we have to be quick. They will rush in from the street so it's best we escape through the back. The horses should be nearby. Maybe we could make a smoke bottle and throw it in the front room just before we leave so the law will have no visibility for a bit. That should buy us time. Onto the horses then and off. We should split up the moment we're out of town, one group heading west, the other keeping south. If there's anyone approaching the bank too soon, the lookout will start whistling "Oh, Susanna" and we can abort or shoot our way out."

For a moment it was quiet while everybody considered Jensen's words. Then Jared looked at Jeff.

"Sounds like it could work. But who'd go in first with Allie and who'll be lookout?"

"Misha is too trigger happy," Allie quickly cut in. There was just no way she would pose as a couple with that mule even for a second.

"True, that," Jeff nodded and Misha protested.

"I'm sure Jared wants the honors but he's such a greenhorn..."

Allie jumped up, making Misha snap his mouth shut. The glare Allie graced him with would have rendered anyone quiet.

"I think since I have to put my head on the line here, I should get to pick who will be my _husband_." 

She walked over to where Jensen and Jeff were standing, cocking her head. 

"I need someone who's level headed and doesn't look like he could be my father," she explained and hooked her arm into Jensen's. "There's just one obvious choice."

Jensen grinned. 

"Right. Then Jared should be lookout," he said but Jared immediately shook his head, clearly not happy with Allie's choice.

"I don't see how I should stay outside. I could pose as your man, too, Allie. Let Ackles be the lookout. Or Misha, for all I care."

"Misha would be too trigger happy out there, too. No, I think Allie's idea is good," Jeff declared. "I will walk in with Misha, so I can keep an eye on him."

"I don't need a babysitter, Jeff, I..." Misha started but Jeff cut him off lifting his hand.

"It is decided, Misha. You wanted to be here, so do what I tell you to. Now let's break up camp and find a good spot to hide the horses."

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Jared rode into Williamsburg alone, slowly walking his Silver Dapple Pinto Fox Trotter mare through the deserted main street of the pre noon sleepy town. Arrow had always been a most reliable horse and Jared was almost disappointed that he saw nobody around to appraise his ride. A chicken that had escaped its enclosure was strolling along the road, picking at anything that looked edible. An old man was sitting on the porch of the saloon, hat pulled deep down over his eyes, obviously fast asleep.

Never having been to this particular town, Jared tried to take in everything he could. He might not be happy with the job Jeff had him do, but he'd do it right. The bank was easily identifiable almost at the end of the main street. In its background appeared the massive body of water called the Arrowhead Lake and Jared realized now what Ackles had been talking about. 

To his left there were several buildings, leaving the bank at the far end. Behind those buildings there was nothing but water. To his right there were more buildings, the train tracks and just a bit further rose the massive rocks of the Roanoke Ridge. It was either a hell of a risk to do this job because this place was just so easy to use as a trap. It felt like Jared was entering the neck of a bottle. Or it was the most genius stroke Jeff had to pull this off.

Steering Arrow past the bank, Jared noticed that just behind the two remaining buildings on the left, one of which was the town's stable, there was a nice, inconspicuous spot to hitch the horses. Leaving Arrow with a carrot to munch on, he patted the horse's neck and strolled back towards the bank. Along its porch were benches on either side and Jared flopped down in one, copying the sleepyhead on the other side of the road and pulled down his hat over his eyes, pretending to be asleep.

He only had to wait about five minutes before the soft hoofbeats of two horses approaching from the opposite direction he had come into town from, told him that Allie and Ackles were closing in on their positions. Jared lifted his head just enough to peek out underneath the rim of his hat to see he was correct. They had just made their way past him and into the bank, chatting softly to one another without paying him any attention, when Jeff and Misha galloped in from the direction he had come from, also going past him to hitch their horses close to the stable.

They pretended to be in a quiet yet animated argument, and for all Jared knew they really were. He knew they'd approach slowly and keep their ears strained for Allie's sneeze. Jared kept his covered eyes roaming the street, right hand casually rested on the butt of his Cattleman Revolver.

 

*****

 

"Good day, Ma'am, Sir," the bank teller greeted as Jensen and Allie set foot in the bank. Allie had hooked her arm into Jensen's and smiled sweetly, reminding anyone who'd see them of a perfect, obedient, albeit somewhat timid wife. "I hate to inform you that we're about to close for lunch, so may I ask what your business here is?"

Jensen strolled up ahead of Allie, taking off his hat in the process. He greeted the man and held out one hand in apology.

"We are sorry, Mr. Steeple," Jensen replied, reading the name tag on the man's suit. "We just rode for hours but got held up by a herd of escaped sheep back in Barker's Holding. They blocked the road and the poor shepherd needed help getting them back behind the enclosure so I'm afraid that ate some of our time."

Mr. Steeple's expression softened somewhat and he nodded.

"I understand, Sir. Now, how can I be of service?"

"Well, my wife Bessie and I, we purchased a small farm right up the Roanoke Meadows, and we realized that it needs a lot of work, like, you know, repairs and...," Jensen explained, managing to cover a yelp when he felt Allie's elbow connect with his ribs when he introduced her as Bessie.

"What my Herbie means to say, Mr. Steeple, is, he bought a pile of rotting planks and now we need some funds to rebuild the farm. We were told this bank allows loans at reasonable taxes and rates," Allie piped up, pleased to see a horrified expression flicker across Jensen's face when she had her name related revenge. "Herbie here is a hard worker. We'll be able to pay back the money in no time."

Mr. Steeple eyed up the couple in front of him, squinting.

"You don't really look like a farmer," he stated. Allie tensed slightly, which Jensen only noticed because her arm was still hooked into his.

"Well, I grew up on a farm and since I am now married, she's adamant that I stop doing the  _dangerous_ job of escorting cattle drives from one place to another."

"It _is_ dangerous, Herbie. If it wasn't they wouldn't need escorts," Allie chimed in, exasperated.

"You see, Mr. Steeple. I really have no choice. So yes, we're not yet farmers. But we will be."

The teller regarded the pair another moment and then nodded. "Very well. If you would step over here, I will get the necessary papers."

He gestured them towards the barred door on his left and went to unlock it. Then he walked towards the back of the room and Allie sneezed loudly.

"God bless," the teller said without turning around. Jensen stepped through the opened door and got his bandana in place with one hand while he drew his pistol with the other. Hearing the front door open, the teller turned around and stared right into the muzzle of Jensen's gun.

"Afraid this is a hold up, Steeple. Open that door," Jensen indicated a double locked door to his right," to the vault and no harm will come to you."

Behind Jensen, Allie had also donned a bandana and held a gun at the ready. A dull thump from the front area signaled to Jensen that the security guard had been taken care of by Jeff and Misha. Steeple stared at 'Herbie', wide eyed, taking in 'Bessie' and the two new men with guns trained at him, and the keys he drew from his pocket were jittering in his hands.

Jensen was usually a patient man but they didn't exactly have all the time in the world. There could be someone coming in at any time so he stepped up to the frightened man and snatched the keys from him. He examined the locks and then the keys, picking out two that looked like they could fit and handed them to Allie.

Allie went to work and quickly had the one lock open but struggled to find the right key for the second one. Jensen had turned Steeple to face the door, his hand fisted in the expensive cloth of Steeple's suit. The moment Allie opened lock number two and the door fell open, Jensen smashed the handle of his gun over the back of Steeple's head and the man crumbled to the floor, unconscious.

"Hogtie and gag," Jensen instructed Misha who shot him an angry look.

"I ain't no errand boy," Misha muttered but did what had to be done.

Jensen and Allie were scrutinizing the saves when Jeff stepped into the vault as well. Jensen glanced at him and held out his hand.

"Need those explosives. The safes can be cracked but that would take more time than we can afford."

Jeff pulled a few sticks out of his satchel and handed them over. The three of them were busy attaching the dynamite to the five safes when Misha joined them.

"Are we ready for the big bang?" He asked. Jeff looked at Jensen and Allie, who nodded. 

"Good to go. You wanna do the honors?" Jeff asked.

Misha nodded and set up the fuses while the rest of them retired to the other room. A minute later Misha joined them and lit the fuse. Thirty seconds later a loud boom shook the building and Allie ducked down behind Jensen.

"Let's go, boys," Jeff called and made his way into the vault. The dust was settling where the dynamite had not only opened the safes but a sizeable hole in the wall, too. 

Jensen pulled a pouch from his satchel and climbed his way to the one safe, loading gold bars, nuggets, jewelry and bonds into it. He had just finished cleaning out his safe when he heard the familiar tune of 'Oh, Susanna' coming from outside.

"Pack up," Jeff shouted and already crawled out through the wrecked wall. Allie was right on his heels with Jensen ushering her on. Outside the first bullets were flying and as Jensen stepped through the wall he glanced back at Misha who for whatever reason was busy emptying the last safe.

"Collins you fool, get your ass outta here," Jensen hissed, remaining one foot inside, one out, to see if the man would listen. But listening was not in Misha's DNA. He kept stuffing nuggets down his pouch, only looking up when he heard a gun being fired close by and a body falling down in the vault door.

He looked up in time to see Jensen grab his arm, pulling him away from the safe just in time to feel another bullet zing past, burying itself just above the safe in the splintered panels. As he stumbled to the hole in the wall, courtesy of Jensen's pull on him, he saw the man firing his gun once more, with another scream and a thump to verify he was on target.

Misha and Jensen took cover at the corner of the bank building with Jensen keeping an eye on the hole they just escaped through while Misha had sight of Jeff and Allie in cover behind the next building. He had no eyes on Jared but he saw a lawman sneaking around the front corner of the bank. Sending one round towards the man made him scramble back to cover. Behind him he heard Jensen fire his gun a few times, then his hand grabbed his shoulder. 

"Go around the back and take Allie to the horses," Jensen hissed. "I'll cover you."

Knowing better than to mistrust Jensen's words, Misha took a deep breath and started running. Jensen's gun was firing round after round and Misha joined up with Jeff and Allie unharmed.

"Jensen said to get going," Misha panted, crouching low and already moving on alongside the house to round it and double back to the horses. Jeff glanced over to Jensen and caught his hand signal to leave. Quickly he pointed out the direction that Jared was hiding in, then he and Allie followed Misha.

Jensen watched on as the three disappeared. A bullet burying itself in the wall next to him drew his attention back to the lawmen and he returned fire. Finally he had the chance to check out the direction Jeff had pointed out Jared would be in and spotted the younger man ducked behind the remainders of a wooden table he must have turned over for cover. There were a few holes in the table already, another two adding to it as Jensen watched. 

He followed the direction the shot had come from and spotted the shooter on a balcony of a building across the road. From where he was hiding the bullets wouldn't have enough reach to cause harm so Jensen sprinted across to the other building to take cover behind a few vats. He was now able to reach the man on the balcony and fired, causing him to collapse.

For a moment it was eerily quiet and Jensen reloaded. No bullets were flying and the only thing Jensen could hear was the pounding of his own heart. He detected a gunman to his right, hidden in the shadows of an overhead balcony. Firing a few rounds in the general direction of the man, Jensen got up and dashed across the dusty street, sliding into cover next to Jared behind the dilapidated table.

 "The fuck are you doing here, Ackles?" Jared hissed, looking annoyed.

"Helping you get your ass out of here in one piece," Jensen replied and ducked low as another bullet splintered the wood in front of him. Jared huffed.

"I don't need your help," he muttered, firing at a lawman to their left.

"Oh?" Jensen snorted. "Then why are you still stuck here?"

"I was making sure y'all got out of that mouse trap," Jared growled. Another bullet splintered the wood and Jensen hissed as some debris hit him.

"We're sitting ducks here," he rejoined. "And this table here won't hold much longer."

At that moment the thundering hoofbeat of three horses leaving town created a most welcome distraction. Jared managed to take out another man and Jensen whistled for their horses. It was almost a race who would be on horseback sooner, the law or the outlaws. 

Rascal and Arrow pitched up at their rider's sides simultaneously and they jumped on, speeding off. Moments later they were being followed by three riders, as Jensen noticed when he chanced a glance over his shoulder.

Soon they had left the houses behind them, reaching the end of the bottleneck before it opened up to planes, forest and rising terrain. The speed of their steeds allowed them to open up a gap to their pursuers and in the distance Jensen saw the dust trail that told him, Jeff had turned south with Allie and Misha.

"Turn west," Jensen shouted to Jared and promptly changed his own direction. Without looking back he knew Jared was following him for he could hear the thundering of Arrow's hooves behind him. They kept up their pace for close to ten minutes before Jensen slowed Rascal and steered him into the shadow of some trees. Jared followed.

Listening intently for any sound of a pursuer, both men kept quiet. When they were sure nobody was chasing after them, Jensen guided Rascal further down to the trees and into a small creek that was running there. He spurred his horse to a trot and followed the stream for about a mile, only leaving it on a rocky part of the shore.

Another five minutes further, he found a good spot to rest up and stay hidden. Jensen dismounted and patted the neck of his faithful companion, picking some beets from his pocket as a reward. Finally turning around Jensen saw Jared treating his mare likewise before turning to look at him.

"I would have been fine on my own, Ackles," Jared muttered. "Now was this whole bullet wasting fest at least worth it?" He glanced at the pouch Jensen just took off his back.

"Guess so," Jensen shrugged. "No idea what the others got but this alone was worth the risk." He dropped the pouch to the ground and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe at the dust and sweat on his face.

"Ahh," he hissed when the material made contact with the skin.

"What's wrong, princess? Got a scratch?" Jared jeered. 

"Shut up," Jensen muttered, picking at his jaw gingerly. His fingers came in contact with a wooden splinter and he pulled it out to study it. "Freaking shit piece of a table."

Jared looked at Jensen and scoffed. "You look like a pin cushion, Ackles."

Jensen ignored the jibe and carefully felt around his jaw, pulling out three more splinters.

"Are there any more?" He asked Jared. Jared rolled his eyes and didn't move. "Listen, jackass, if I had a freaking mirror here I wouldn't dream of asking you so get your head outta your ass and tell me."

Jared exhaled noisily and walked up to Jensen, scrutinizing the bloodied and stubbled skin of Jensen's jaw. All of a sudden Jared wondered how the stubble would feel against his skin and he felt the urge to trace his fingertips over the three cougar gouges. Instead, he reached out and plucked another splinter from the skin.

"Think you're good now," he declared and returned to his horse.

"Thanks, Nurse Padalecki. I'd say we get going then and circle back south. We might meet up with the others by nightfall."

Instead of an answer, Jared mounted Arrow and walked off. Jensen just shook his head and then followed suit.


	6. Chapter 6

Jensen had soon caught up with Jared and was riding next to him. There was a silence between them that he couldn't figure out. When Jared had drawn the last splinter from his face, Jensen had wondered about the gentle touch and yet Jared seemed as closed off as ever. Everything about the man was giving him mixed signals. Jared's words and actions seemed to tell one story, but the subtle things and the eyes Jensen felt on him when he wasn't looking suggested another.

They used to be tight. Best friends. He would have given his life to save Jared without thinking twice and he knew at that time, Jared would have done the same.Then, about a year ago, Jared had left the group for a few months and when he'd returned, there was this hostility that Jensen could neither place nor explain.

He had tried to not add fuel to the fire and remained neutral, friendly, despite Jared's best attempt to make him hate his guts. Jeff had noticed, Kim, Rich, Matt, everyone. They all asked him what had happened and Jensen was tired of saying he had no idea.

And yet, despite all this between them, he knew if push came to shove he could count on Jared to have his back, just like he'd have his. Jensen sighed. If it were Misha or Kenny or anyone else, he would cut his losses and move on, but he just couldn't do it with Jared. It hurt. Looking up, he just caught Jared quickly turning his head the other way like he didn't want Jensen to know he'd been watching him.

Shaking his head, Jensen knew he had to do something. He had to make Jared talk and what better opportunity was there than here and now, where there was nobody to interfere or to judge. He spurred Rascal to a faster pace and went ahead, just to cross Jared's path and force the man to stop.

"What the hell, Ackles," Jared growled exasperated as he brought Arrow to a stop.

"Exactly. What the hell is going on with you, Jared. We need to talk. Now."

"About what?" Jared demanded.

"Us. You. And me. Now," Jensen repeated, eyes never leaving Jared. It was quiet for a moment, then Jared let Arrow walk off the road and dismounted. Jensen felt some relief when Jared didn't bolt and he mimicked his actions.

"So, now what?" Jared asked when the horses took advantage of their freedom and grazed.

"How about you finally tell me what on earth I have done for you to treat me like trash. We used to be best friends, Jared," Jensen reminded him.

Jared huffed at the last remark. "You think I don't know that, Ackles?"

"You act like you forgot," Jensen clarified.

Jared rolled his eyes and turned around, walking a few steps. He didn't get far before he felt Jensen's hand on his shoulder, spinning him around to face him.

"Oh, no, Jared. Don't you run. Tell me what is going on!"

Jared shrugged Jensen's hand off his shoulder and pushed the other man back. Jensen caught himself quickly and glared at him. A moment later he was back in Jared's personal space, not intimidated by Jared's taller frame.

"The hell, Jared. You afraid? Can't be so hard to tell me where I fucked up. Come on!"

Jared growled and twisted his left hand in Jensen's shirt, keeping him at distance, while his right was clenching up in a fist.

"You wanna punch me? Well, come on then, find out how that will go. Punch me, Jared! Get it out of your system!"

Jared's arm pulled back, his face contorted in barely controled rage. He was breathing heavily, staring at Jensen's face, trying to figure out whether he wanted to punch Jensen or tell him that he was keeping him away because he was in love with him. Because people got hanged for that.

"Jared?"

"Okay, Jensen... you really wanna know then?"

"Yes!"

Jensen hadn't missed Jared's use of his name but opted not to point it out, taking some sting out of his voice for the same reason. Jared just shook his head, took a deep breath and then used the hand that was still knotted in Jensen's shirt to close the distance between them. Then he pressed his lips to Jensen's. After a few moments he shoved Jensen away again.

"There. Now you know. Happy?"

Jensen was sort of shell shocked, stood frozen where he had stopped the momentum from the shove and Jared felt dread wash through his body. He'd really done it now, destroyed whatever he once had with Jensen in a matter of seconds. Stepping back a few steps, Jared looked horrified and turned once more to find Arrow.

"Jared wait!" Jensen called after him when he managed to unfreeze himself. To his surprise, Jared stopped, but didn't turn to face him.

"I can't, Jensen. People get hanged for this. But I can't help how I feel. I know you don't feel the same, and Allie..."

"Allie? What does Allie have to do with this? And you have no idea what I feel, Jared. None."

Jensen's heart was racing the same as his mind. He had expected a sore jaw at the least, and then some kind of explanation why he deserved it. Instead, Jared had kissed him. Jensen had never expected to feel Jared's lips on his. It was not something people tolerated, and it had taken Jensen a long time to understand that what he'd felt for Jared was more than friendship. In fact, he had only come to this understanding after Jared, for an unknown reason, had abandoned the group.

Jensen had felt a longing he'd never felt before and finally things had fallen into place and comprehension had taken over. That was after Kim Rhodes had told the gang after one too many gins or rums what losing her husband had made her feel like. Jensen had recognized the emotion on some scale.

A few months onwards, Jared had returned to the camp and Jensen had been upbeat when Fred and Jeff had told him about it. Only the Jared who returned was angry. Closed off. No easy banter, no heartfelt laughs, just... hostility. Not towards the gang, but to him. At least that's how it had felt then. Matt and Kim had tried to tell him he was imagining it, but he saw they noticed it and had no explanation either. It had taken Jensen a week or two to lock his hurt away and pretend he wasn't fazed by Jared's behavior. And now, having felt Jared's inner turmoil and the desperation in the short kiss, Jensen understood.

"Well, I'm not blind. I see how Allie looks at you. How can you not...?" Jared replied, finally facing Jensen. Jensen barked out a laugh. If matters weren't so serious, they would actually be quite funny. He sighed.

"Look, Jared, I already told Matt and Kenny that Allie is like my little sister. Nothing more. If she feels different, she never told me. It wouldn't change anything anyways. She's not my type."

"Not your type?" Jared gasped with a frown.

"Nope." Jensen shook his head and smiled.

"But..."

"As in I don't like girls, not like that at least." Jared's eyes widened at that concession. "Yeah, I know, people get killed for that," Jensen repeated. "But I don't think any of our group would think like that." He shrugged. "Well, maybe Misha."

"You, you never said anything," Jared muttered softly.

"Well, I never had the chance, Jared, because I only really figured it out when you were gone. And when you returned you were mad as hell at me," Jensen explained.

 "I...," Jared started and then trailed off. He didn't know what to say. "I thought you would hate me if you knew. And I just couldn't have you close without giving myself away. So I tried to keep you away from me."

"Well, don't," Jensen murmured and pulled Jared close. The moment their lips touched, his whole body tingled and Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen, like he was afraid he'd change his mind.

Jensen happily took the lead in their first real kiss, seeking entrance with his tongue. When he felt Jared's lips part, he made it his mission to explore everything he could. His hands wrapped around Jared's shoulders and then slid down towards his ass, pulling him close. 

Jared immediately responded by bucking against Jensen, trying to relieve some pressure that was building in his crotch. Their kiss was rough, needy, totally unrehearsed, but the flavor on Jensen's lips… it was the best thing he’d ever had. Slowly, his eyes slid shut.

Suddenly, there was a hand between his legs and Jared moaned into Jensen's mouth. Jared’s hands scrambled, one fisting in Jensen's gray shirt, the other searching purchase in his short, spikey hair. The kiss sent a burning ache blazing a path way to his cock. He bucked into Jensen's hand, moaning softy again when he felt Jensen grind his hardness against his thigh.

Jensen's was relishing in the way Jared's clothed cock was feeling in his hand, how the other man bucked against him trying to find pleasure. This morning still he had thought he would never experience an intimate moment with Jared, and now, now he knew that if they met up with Jeff, Misha and Allie without sorting out the crackling tension between them, he could guarantee for nothing.

Jared was panting against his neck and Jensen slowly backed him up, further away from the path they'd been riding on, not stopping until Jared's back met with a redwood trunk. With one hand he undid Jared's belt buckle, all the while nibbling along the rough stubble of his jaw line. Finally he worked his hand into Jared's jeans, wrapping it around the rock hard cock he found there. Jared groaned.

Meeting the other man's eyes with his, Jensen saw the silent plea in them. A plea to let this all be real, the longing for release, and it set Jensen's heart on fire. 

"It's okay," he mumbled, not sure if his words were clear enough for Jared to understand. But he didn't care. All he could care about now is making Jared feel good, feel his love and desire for him. He pressed his own aching cock against Jared's hip once more and then started to stroke.

The strokes were inelegant, unknowing, but Jared tried to buck up, to chase his pleasure. He was quickly pushed back into the tree once more, one knee slotted under his balls, Jensen using his weight and better footing to keep Jared almost motionless. Jensen's hand kept up a tantalizing rhythm while his lips sealed over Jared's once more, to stifle his moans.

Jared's pulse was racing, the sensation of Jensen's rough fingers on his hot flesh causing his body to shiver involuntarily. He knew if they didn't stop this, he wouldn't last much longer. But Jensen seemed to have no intention of stopping. Gasping for breath, Jared broke the kiss.

"Jensen," he panted. " 'm gonna cum if you don't stop."

For the first time, Jensen made a sound, albeit a small one. A breathy grunt as his hips stuttered out of the rhythm he was grinding on Jared’s leg. He didn't want to stop. He wanted to tell Jared he was just as close. So he pressed his lips to the shell of Jared’s ears, whispering huskily.

"Me too."

Jared groaned appreciatively and his hands searched out Jensen's belt, quickly working to release the hard length he'd been feeling pressed against him. Jensen pushed his hand away, taking matters into his own to speed things up. A moment later something warm and slightly wet touched Jared's cock, jolting a surprised gasp from him as he glanced down.

Jensen's thick cock was lined up against Jared's, both surrounded by Jensen's hand. It was a stretch, Jensen's fingers not able to fully hold both cocks, but the sensation was even better. Velvety warmth and friction heightened the exchange as precome leaked down their lengths. Jared felt the pressure in his pelvis, the tension slowly locking his muscles, his breath coming in shorter, sharper gasps. He moaned loudly.

“Jared, be quiet.” The hissed command was muffled against his neck as Jensen didn’t slow for a moment. If anything, he was going even faster, harder.

“I…” The words failed the younger man, and Jared had to muster more focus than necessary to speak, to think. His fingers fisted into Jensen's shirt again, holding on for dear life, “I’m tryin’.”

“Try harder.”

But there was just no way to, not when he was at the edge, “Jensen… Jensen! Je--”

Jared’s pleas were silenced by a rough kiss as he spilled his cum over Jensen's hand, no doubt messing up both of their clothing, but he couldn't care less. Bliss and relief weakened his knees until only the tree and Jensen were keeping him upright. He was panting, open mouth as they kissed sloppily, more tongue than lips at this point. It was mere moments later when Jensen groaned and shuddered before spilling his own release.

It was like time stood still for both of them as they tried to get their breathing under control and Jensen had to use all his will power to make sure he didn't crush Jared against the tree hard enough to cause damage. Finally he moved away and let Jared sort out his mess, just like him.

"Wow," he then breathed, "this is so not how I imagined today would turn out."

Jared barked out a laugh. "Yeah, me neither."

"But - I'm not complaining, Jared. Damn it feels good to see you smile at me again."

"You sure it's not getting your rocks off that feels good?" Jared jested.

"Very funny," Jensen shook his head with a slight smile. "But, yeah. That, too."

He whistled for Rascal who lifted his head where he was munching on some grass and trotted over, followed by Arrow, who obviously thought, if the one horse is needed, the other one will be as well.

"Bet Jeff and Misha are wondering whether we are bashing each other's heads in," Jared mused as they kicked their horses into gear. Jensen chuckled.

"You do realize we will have to keep this quiet a bit. At least for now," he replied.

"Yeah," Jared sighed. "I'm not ready to risk my neck just yet."

"Right. Me neither," Jensen confirmed. "Let's speed up a bit before they send out a search party."

 

*****

 

Allie was feeding her mare some wild carrots before checking her saddle for faults. Her group had reached the meeting point at the crossroads to Saint Laurent a good half hour ago. Just how long did Jensen and Jared need to lose any tails?

Jeff was starting to pace back and forth and Misha did his best looking annoyed. Why did they have to meet anyways? Why not see if those two snot noses would find their way back to Black Oaks Falls by themselves. Of course, he would never be so lucky to get rid of them anyways.

"You think we should go looking for them?" Allie wondered aloud, causing Jeff to stop pacing.

"Oh hell, no," Misha replied. "I enjoy every minute of not having Mr. Know-it-all around. Besides, if they're not here yet cos they got themselves in a pickle, looking for them would get us in the same pickle, too."

"Shut yer mouth, Collins," Allie growled and Misha raised an eyebrow, unconvincingly trying to look amused. He wasn't scared of no females, but this one knew how to shoot. And he doubted that she would refrain from shooting at him.

"They'll come," Jeff cut in, voice slightly betraying some fear. "They got fast horses, there's no law that will catch them."

Allie walked over to Jeff and studied his expression. "Then why do you worry?"

"Mr. Morgan here only worries that his favorite puppies will bash their noses in over their dick measuring contest," Misha snarled derisively. If his aim had been to draw Allie's attention on him, it was utterly successful.

"Jealous?" Allie sullied as she turned to him with a fake smile. 

"Me? Of them two? I very much think not," Misha denied, rolling his eyes.

"I think someone's protesting too much," Jeff grinned.

"You should be, actually," Allie stated. "Both of them possess something you will never have."

"Pray tell what that would be," Misha raised an eyebrow.

"Brains," Allie supplied and turned her back on him to get her eyes back on the road.

Misha was actually dumb struck and incapable of speaking for the moment, which made Jeff chuckle. Finally Misha let out an exasperated huff.

"Brains my ass," he murmured. "For all we know Allie can collect those brains in Williamsburg if they don't show up soon."

"Someone worried about us," a voice came from their left and a moment later Rascal and Jensen came through the brush, followed by Arrow and Jared. "If I hadn't heard that with my own ears..."

"Shut up," Misha grumped.

Both Jensen and Jared dismounted, and Jensen handed Jeff his pouch containing the loot.

"That's heavy," Jeff was astonished. Jensen shrugged.

"Some gold, bars and nuggets, jewelry, bonds...," he listed but Jeff's gasp interrupted him.

"Bonds?"

"Yeah. Looked worth a lot of coins," Jensen replied with a frown. Jeff dug into the pouch and pulled out the bonds to study them.

"Oh, yes, they are," he confirmed. "But they're also dangerous. They can be traced back to Williamsburg. We would have to wait a very long time until we could cash in on them." 

"I see," Jensen nodded. 

 "We could try them at a fence," Jared chimed in. Jeff's eyebrows crawled up his forehead.

"That's a thought," he replied with a smile. "A real good thought."

Jared pressed his lips together to refrain from grinning. But Jeff noticed the effort it took.

"Something happened that I should know of?"

Jared blinked and looked up. "No, it's just..."

"We talked," Jensen jumped in. "Not sure if what he told me really is all of his problem with me, but for now, we're... we buried the war axe."

"Oh? That's good to hear, boys. I was getting quite annoyed by the constant animosity surrounding you both."

"Jeff," Jared explained. "It's not like everything is chipper just like that, but... we're working on it. I mean, we used to be friends. Just..."

"...don't ask too much of us yet, alright? Don't set us on jobs together whole time thinking it will fix us. It's a process."

"Well, I for one am happy to hear you're kinda getting along now," Allie said cheerfully.

"Yeah, hooray, you haven't killed each other," Misha mumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm. Jeff shook his head. He would have to have a serious talk with Misha. But for now, there were more pressing things to take care of.

"Right, then I will need you to take these bonds to the fence on Gold Digger's Ranch alone, Jensen. I think that would be the closest one. Tell Goldielocks Hank that I say hello." Jeff handed the bonds back to Jensen. 

"Goldielocks Hank?"

"Don't ask, just do it. I would have sent Jared along but with all this loot I need every gun alongside it that I can get," Jeff explained.

"Right," Jensen nodded and stashed the bonds in his satchel. "I'll see you at camp then."

The four remaining Morgans watched as Jensen swung himself on Rascal and cantered off.


	7. Chapter 7

The ride to the fence would take Jensen about an hour if he took his time. He wasn't in a particular hurry. Goldielocks Hank... really? He chuckled to himself, keeping Rascal at a leasurely gallop as he watched the landscape beginning to change. Bright green trees became rarer, more open planes and brush taking their places. A few deer were crossing his path every now and then, not to mention the rabbits and several different critters.

After crossing the planes the area was filling up with rocky structures, sometimes creating rather sharp drops for someone who would venture to close to the edge. Jensen lifted his head to look up one particularly high cliff, knowing he had to keep his eyes peeled for his path to veer off snaking up this rocky part of nature. Once he reached the top it would slowly slope lower again into the opposite direction and eventually open up to the once again lush green of Gold Digger's Ranch.

Rascal was walking along the edge of said cliff and Jensen almost had the feeling even the horse enjoyed the view. They hadn't been on top long, however, when a loud voice startled horse and rider. Jensen's hand immediately came to rest on his revolver.

"Oh, hell and damnation," the agitated voice shouted angrily. "You've been leading me around in circles for weeks, you treacherous source of information. I'm gonna burn you to ashes, deceiving as you are."

Jensen was confused. He'd come across many quarrels between friends, or work partners, or other set-ups that lead to death threats, but he never heard someone threatening to burn the other person. Curious, he steered Rascal off the path, revolver now in hand and headed into the direction the shouting had come from. It didn't take him long to set eyes on a man dressed in fairly good clothes who somehow seemed out of place in this part of the wilderness. He was standing really close to the edge, scrutinizing the skyline and landscape while constantly double checking a book sized piece of paper, or parchment, in his hand. As much as Jensen tried, he couldn't make out any other human being.

At hearing a horse approaching behind him, the man turned around. For a moment Jensen worried that he'd scare and tumble down the cliff but if the man was surprised at all to see someone, he didn't show it. To the contrary.

"Oh, good," the man exclaimed, waving the paper around in greeting. "Are you a lucky man, sir?"

"Um... lucky?" Jensen frowned slightly at the unusual greeting. "I don't know, sometimes maybe?"

"Great. That's great." The man walked towards him and it was just so much Jensen could do to keep his hands from drawing the revolver. "You can take this then. It just hasn't brought me any luck and I'm done chasing after rock formations that end up making fun of me. Maybe you can make sense of this and get lucky."

The man pressed the paper into Jensen's surprised hands and then turned to find his horse.

"Good luck, sir, you'll need it."

With that the man left and Jensen stared at the paper in his hands.

"Thanks, I guess," he mumbled and then unfolded what turned out to be a map.

There was a crude drawing of a river in the background and three rocks that resembled the pipes of an organ and Jensen was sure he had seen something like this before. The middle one had a crack that apparently yielded something of importance. After studying it for a few moments, Jensen shrugged and stowed it in his saddlebag. He would decide later what to do with it. For now, he had to cash in on some bonds. Gently urging Rascal back on the path, the pair galloped on.

 

*****

 

Jared made up the rear of the small group heading to Black Oak Falls, each of the having a pouch filled with loot either stuffed into their saddle bags or attached to it. Jeff had chosen a path that seemed rarely used. Nevertheless all of the had a hand resting on their firearm, just in case they would come across a soul that showed an interest in their pouches.

Most of their journey was made in silence, making certain they wouldn't miss any noise that could mean an ambush. One just never knew in these parts of the west. At last the familiar, forest covered rock that included their falls came into view and the atmosphere tangibly relaxed. Jeff let his horse fall back to ride next to Jared, leaving Misha alone up front because Allie just refused to ride at his side.

"There, we made it," Jeff said cheerfully and was rewarded with a fleeting smile from Jared. Brief as it was, it was still more than he'd seen on Jared's face in the last weeks, so whatever part the boys cleared up, it was making things right. Slowly.

"Yep," Jared replied, smacking his lips and casting a short glance over his back. Jeff didn't miss that.

"Don't worry, there won't be anybody sneaking up on us here," he stated in a reassuring tone.

"I know," Jared replied. "I was just... never mind."

"No worries, my boy, one can never be too careful," Jeff said warmly. "What I wanted to ask is whether you'd feel up to a trip to Jacksonville later on, with Kenny. Or Matt. See if they're willing to buy some of the gold bars before word of the heist reaches these parts.'

Jared considered Jeff's words for a brief moment and then nodded. 

"I can do that, if Matt's willing to ride with me."

"I'm sure he won't have any objections," Jeff chuckled. "Misha can take Kenny to Three Point and I'll have Fred accompany Allie to Stillwater to do the same."

"I see," Jared nodded. "Splitting it up to draw less attention even once everyone knows about the robbery. Not bad, old man."

"Watch it, young blood," Jeff threatened without any sting. Then he laughed. "You know, this feels right, like it should be. You're much more relaxed and like the Jared we all knew before. I'm glad you guys talked. And without drawing blood, I noticed."

"Just about," Jared murmured and then grinned. Jeff decided not to press the matter further. If the boy wanted to talk he would do so in his own time. "So, you're gonna see that things at camp get sorted then, Jeff?"

"What? No, I was thinking of taking young Alex to Hamilton for the last bars. Rich can run the camp. If Mrs. Rhodes lets him," Jeff added with a chuckle.

"Sounds like a plan," Jared grinned.

About an hour later the four small groups were ready to start their missions. Jeff had instructed each group, ignoring the sour scowl Rich put on for a show. He liked missions like this but he understood that Jeff did want a senior hand back at the camp instead of a greenhorn like Alex. One never knew what would happen.

"So, remember to keep your eyes open for Pellegrinos and Pinkertons," Jeff addressed everyone. "All of us have to venture through Mark's favorite spots to waylay and you know they enjoy taking us out as much as we like shooting them. And after the fiasco at Sage Valley City, the sheriff set those Pinkerton bloodhounds on us. They could be anywhere by now. The slightest sign of them, abort the mission. Rich, I expect Misha and Jared's group back tomorrow only. The rest of us could return tonight. Also, you can expect Jensen back in a few hours."

"Aye," Rich nodded. "I'll keep this place running. Right, Ladies?"

Kim Rhodes just rolled her eyes at him and turned around. Jeff chuckled.

"See you all later, gents and ladies. Get going, boys!"

Eight horses and their riders trotted off and split up into their respective directions as soon as they hit the main road.

 

*****

 

Jensen watched on as the blond, short haired man in front of him scrutinized the bonds he had given him. He had found the fence Jeff described easy enough and at the mention of bonds, the fence keeper's eyes had lit up. 

"Right, them bonds look legit," the man finally declared and looked at Jensen. "I can give you three thousand Dollars for them."

Jensen had no idea what the bonds were worth in the first place. Bonds were Jeff and Fred's thing. He rather had hard gold in his pocket. But Jensen knew enough to never take the first offer he was given.

"I'm afraid that's a no deal, sir. The other place I tried offered five thousand and it was no deal. Hand them over." Jensen stretched out his hand.

"Five thousand?" The man's blue eyes were threatening to bulge out of their sockets. "But that's almost half the w.... um, you forget them bonds are hotter than hell at the moment, boy. Even if they'd be worth twenty big ones, I could never ever get that much for them right after they're stolen."

"Look, Goldielocks," Jensen started and the man's face turned red. "I know they're hot, right? But I know you can get more than ten big ones for them and you know it, too. So cough up the coins I want or I'll take them to someone who will."

"Don't you call me that, kiddo, unless you want to collect your teeth in the dirt," the man growled, clenching his fist.

"Why, aren't you Goldielocks Hank?" Jensen asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hank glared at him with a frown. "Who told you that?"

"I'm riding with Jeff Morgan,"Jensen smirked.

"Damn that man," Hank huffed, shaking his head. Then he walked to the back of his shack and rummaged in a chest. When he returned he handed Jensen a bundle of notes. "That's six big ones, if you wanna count."

Jensen glanced down at the bills in his hand and then pocketed them.

"It's alright. Jeff trusts you, so I will do the same. Pleasure doing business with you, Hank," Jensen replied and tipped his hat in greeting. As he mounted his steed, Hank called out to him.

"Just tell Jeff if he or any of his friends call me Goldielocks again, I will forget his name, no more perks, ya hear, boy?"

"Name's Jensen, and yeah, I'll tell him. Maybe." With a wink and a grin Jensen rode off.

Jensen decided to circle around to make his way back. His memory told him those organ pipe rocks were somewhere along that route. It wouldn't hurt to keep his eyes open. Half an hour later he was letting Rascal quench his thirst before he had to cross the Navaho River. Using the break to refill his own canteen with river water, Jensen's ears picked up the sound of two horses approaching slowly. The hairs on his arms stood on edge and he left the canteen on the ground as he got up, right hand going to his pistol.

Two riders in suits, wearing bowler hats and looking very much out of place in the wilderness around them, dismounted their horses. The taller one immediately noticed the placement of Jensen's hand.

"No need for that now, Mr. Ackles," he said evenly. "We're not here to fight."

Jensen squinted briefly, taking in the label on one of the horses' saddlebags. He cocked his head.

"That so, Pinkerton? Somehow I can't believe that," he replied warily.

"This is Agent Ross, my name is Milton, Mr. Ackles. You are Jensen Ackles, aren't you?" 

Jensen just blinked his eyes. "It doesn't matter who I am."

"Oh, I'm afraid you are mistaken, Mr. Ackles. It does matter who you are. What isn't important is you confirming it. I know all about you. You and your gang," Milton explained with a menacing undertone.

"You know nothing about me," Jensen denied.

"I know you were taken in by Jeff Morgan when you ran off after your father killed your mother in a drunken haze. You were what, thirteen? Morgan took you in, taught you how to rob and rustle cattle amongst other things," Milton continued unperturbed. Jensen clenched his jaw.

"What do you want?" He snarled, patience running thin.

"We want to offer you a way out," Agent Ross declared, drawing an indignant huff from Jensen.

"Yeah, right."

"It is right, indeed. Who we want is Morgan. You surely know where he is holed up at the moment. We are offering you your freedom in exchange for the location."

"I haven't seen Jeff in weeks, no idea where he's having his tent right now," Jensen replied defiantly. 

"That's hard to believe, Mr. Ackles. He is your mentor. Or at least, he was. Surely after Sage Valley City he didn't just abandon you, nor the other way round." 

"I don't care what you believe, I ain't no rat!"

Milton slowly let his eyes wander from Jensen's dusty boots up until he met green eyes.

"Very well. Maybe you should have some time to think it over. Your freedom, or the nooze right next to Morgan once we catch him. And catch him we will, sooner or later. You have twenty-four hours to decide."

The Pinkerton agents mounted their horses again and cantered off. Jensen watched thems with an angry glare.

"I ain't no rat!" He called after them, hoping they would get once and for all that he didn't need twenty-four hours to make up his mind. When the agents were out of sight, Jensen swung himself on Rascal's back and got back on track.

He hadn't been riding long before the terrain changed and the landscape was riddled with decent sited rocks and little creeks all over. Jensen had meant to keep an eye open for the rock formation on his map, but the encounter with the Pinkerton Agents was preoccupying his mind. Why were they offering him a way out? They could have just shot him on the spot or captured him to lure Jeff out. With his mind busy in those lines, Jensen noticed too late that the bridge he was approaching was blocked by a broken down stagecoach.

Taking the handicapped vehicle in, Jensen wondered where the driver or the passengers were, when suddenly four figures emerged from the coach and two more from under the bridge, guns drawn.

"We got you now, Ackles!" One of them shouted gleefully and bullets started flying. Jensen pulled Rascal around and kicked his heels in the horse's sides.

"Fucking Pellegrinos," he cursed as he drew his own firearm and shot back over his shoulder, urging Rascal for some boulders close by for cover. It seemed like everybody was out to get him today and Jensen was getting mighty sick of it.

Just as he reached the boulders, a bullet hit the one he was closest to and ricocheted off it. Some splinters caught Rascal, grazing his chest and the horse screamed and reared. Jensen, who had been getting ready to jump off into cover got thrown unceremoniously into the dirt. With a shrill whinny Rascal raced off, leaving behind his dazed rider.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Jensen squinted against the swirling dust he'd stirred up when he half jumped, half fell off his horse. Rascal had taken off immediately, startled by the pain from the rock splinters. Jensen had no time to worry about his horse, though, because the Pellegrinos kept sending bullets in his direction, forcing him to keep his head down.

Once the dust around him, as well as inside his head, had settled, Jensen assumed a covered position behind the rock. He saw three of Pellegrino's men hiding behind trees about twenty yards from him. One was writhing on the ground further back and Jensen hoped it had been his bullet that caused the man to fall. Two bandits were unaccounted for but Jensen didn't have to wait long to find out their positions. 

The sharp whistling of a bullet cutting through the air rushed past him from the left side and he ducked even lower, relocating his attention toward that side. Sure enough, two figures were edging closer, pistols firing  every now and then. A quick glance over his shoulder told Jensen that the other men were still hiding in the trees, so when the fire ceased because the men had to reload, Jensen took his chance. Rising up he aimed and fired a few quick rounds, sending one man to the ground and the other scrambling for cover.

Rapidly reloading his own weapons, Jensen checked on the hidden bandits once more and saw they were slowly leaving cover, with one trying to get closer to him while the others aimed to circle around. Remembering the dynamite he still had in his satchel, Jensen quickly pulled a stick out and lit the fuse. Then he threw it towards the area that the Pellegrinos were sneaking up to. Seconds later a loud boom and responding screams followed by quiet announced his success.

"Four down, two to go," Jensen mumbled to himself. 

The two remaining outlaws were situated to either side of Jensen, forcing him to split his attention. The one who'd been hiding in the trees was once more holding his cover, probably fearing another explosive flying his way. The other one had managed to close the distance to Jensen and started firing randomly just so Jensen would stay in cover. 

The moment the Pellegrino got close enough for them to lay eyes on each other, Jensen jumped at him, pulling the man down to the ground. The man's gun went flying and Jensen used the butt of his pistol to knock him out. Quickly he turned around once more, pistol ready to go just in case the remaining outlaw had taken advantage of the situation. It turned out he had, but still, the man Jensen saw as the last threat was also out cold lying a few steps from Jensen's cover spot, Rascal standing next to him. Jensen chuckled and relaxed.

"You wanted to join the fight, boy?"

Pushing himself up to his feet, Jensen searched both men for loot, finding a gold pocket watch on each as well as some coins and a ring on one of them. Then he walked over to his mount and checked the wounds on his chest.

"It's alright, boy. Just a scratch. Gave you a fright, didn't it?" He patted the black horse's neck who in turn nuzzled his shoulder. "Right, let's get ourselves home now, boy. Hopefully with no further interruptions. Giddy up!"

It didn't take the pair long to get the rich and thick trees of Black Oak Forest in their sights and Jensen couldn't wait to relax in the safety of their camp.

 

*****

 

Richard Speight Junior - he placed much value on the junior part as he surely didn't want to be confused with the low life drunk his father had been - was sitting in a chair at the center of the camp, feet propped up on the only table they had available, hat drawn deep over his eyes as he was dozing in the early evening sun. His peace and quiet was shattered abruptly when his feet were swept off it in one powerful motion that almost caused him to topple over chair and all. His eyes shot open in terror and he stared into the glowering face of Kim Rhodes.

"Are you mad, woman?" He yelled. "Whatcha trying to scare the living daylights outta me?"

"I'm pretty sure snoozing around the camp is not what Mr. Morgan had in mind when he put you in charge, Dick."

Calling Rich Dick was a certain way to ruffle his feathers. Everyone knew that. He rose to his feet and did his best to glower at Kim.

"Dick?"

"You sure are acting like one," Kim replied. "Now get your ass up and chop some firewood, unless you prefer cold stew tomorrow." She turned and walked off, and Rich stuck his tongue out behind her back. Then he sighed and walked over to the edge of the camp to pick up the axe.

Just when he finished chopping the last block, there was a commotion at the camp entrance. Looking up, Rich saw that it was Jensen who returned. He dropped the axe into the chopping block and briskly walked over to where Jensen was tending to his horse.

"Hey," Rich greeted when he came in hearing distance. Jensen looked up from where he was applying some ointment to the tiny wounds on Rascal's chest.

"Hey, Rich. Is Jeff around?"

"Ah, no," Rich replied. "They're all out distributing the bars to various banks. He might be back later."

Jensen hummed in understanding.

"Did you get the bonds traded?" Rich asked. 

"Sure," Jensen replied, patting his satchel. "I'll put the money in the lock box when I'm done here." He pulled a carrot out of a saddle bag and fed it to Rascal, who snorted and then happily munched on it. "Everthing's been quiet here?"

Rich lifted his head in apprehension.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I ran into some _friends_ on the way back," Jensen explained as they walked towards the supply wagon to check if there was any stew left.

"Pellegrinos?" Rich asked. Jensen nodded.

"And Pinktertons."

"Bollocks," Rich swore. "That where your horse got scratched up?"

"Yup. The Pellegrinos were trying to add extra holes to our hides," Jensen replied with a frown. Then he stopped short. "You know what was weird, Rich? They know us by name now."

Rich huffed. "They know _you_ by name, 'cause you're Jeff's favorite boy. The rest of us, not so much. Maybe Jared still, but..." He trailed off and shrugged.

"Shut up," Jensen grumbled. "Jeff doesn't have any favorites."

"You keep telling yourself that. Did they get away?"

"The Pellegrinos?" Jensen asked, filling a tin plate with some mushy stew. Rich nodded. "They were six on one and you ask me if they got away? They were waylaying me, not the other way 'round, dickhead."

"Just wondering," Rich shrugged. 

"Well, maybe three of them. I didn't exactly feel like checking up on their health. All I wanted was to get back here without another hold-up."

"So, the Pinkertons are down here now as well?"

"Definitely," Jensen replied and dropped the spoon into the bowl. "They knew me by name, too. Tried to offer me a deal."

"A deal?" Rich's eyes grew wide.

"My life for Jeff's," Jensen shrugged. 

"So, they know where we are?"

"Nope, don't think so. Met them about an hour out. They know the general direction, I guess. That's why they wanted me to tell them where he was. But it's just a matter of time, they're like freaking blood hounds." 

"What, are you telling me they just let you leave when you said no?" Rich frowned.

"Kinda. I told them I ain't no rat. Was prepared to fight or outrun them, but they never even as much as pulled a gun on me. Gave me like twenty-four hours to think it over." Jensen rolled his eyes.

"Hmmmm," Rich exhaled. "I don't like it."

"Same," Jensen replied and walked towards Jeff's tent. He deposited the money into the box and shoved it back under Jeff's cot. "I'm gonna kick up my legs a bit. Send Jeff my way when he's back, will ya?"

"Alright," Rich nodded. '"You okay?"

"Just tired. And I got some thinking to do,"Jensen replied.

"Don't hurt yourself," Rich snarked, earning himself a punch to the shoulder. "Ouch."

Jensen grinned and disappeared into his tent.

 

*****

 

 A soft rustling on his tent was what drew Jensen from his light slumber. For a moment he wanted to get alarmed but then a well known voice piped up.

"Are you awake, Jensen?" Ruth asked just loud enough for him to hear. "Rich said to tell you when Jeff is back."

Jensen grunted in reply and stretched his legs out. "I'm up, thank you, Ruthie." Taking another moment to chase the remaining tendrils of sleep from his mind, Jensen got up and grabbed his hat before stepping out of his tent. 

Jeff had badgered Alex into tending to both of their horses and just accepted a mug of steaming coffee from Mark Sheppard. Jensen felt his mouth watering at the smell and made sure to walk past Sheppard to collect his fill. Then he walked over to Jeff's tent and took a seat on the chest Jeff used to store his clothes.

"Jensen, my boy," Jeff said cheerfully. " Good to see you back here. Rich told me you were successful with the bonds?"

Jensen grinned and proceeded to tell Jeff the story of Goldielocks Hank and the bonds.

"He told me to warn you never to use his nickname again, or - and I quote - no more perks."

Jeff laughed. "That sounds just like him. Still can't believe he gave you that much."

Jensen shrugged. "I pull a mean bluff. Plus, somehow your name did the trick."

With a smirk, Jeff just shrugged. "I guess I once saved his life. Not literally, mind you. But he was in the process of being conned out of everything he owned. So I saved his possessions."

"Just like that?" Jensen quirked an eyebrow. "What was in it for you?"

"You mean besides the perks? The satisfaction of seeing Mark Pellegrino go empty handed."

"Oh," Jensen nodded in understanding. "Talking of Pellegrino, did Rich tell you, yet?"

"Tell me what?" Jeff's expression sobered up almost instantly.

"I guess, not. Right, on my way back here I almost got caught out by some of Pellegrino's men," Jensen explained. " _After_ having a run in with some Pinkertons."

"Pinkertons?" 

Jensen nodded. "Up there by Eagle Pass. They offered me my freedom if I tell them where to find you."

Jeff licked his lips, thinking. "Why didn't you take it?"

Jensen looked apalled. "Are you joking? They don't know where we are, I intend on keeping it that way. You know I ain't no rat, which is exactly what I told them."

"I know," Jeff nodded. "I just hope your loyalty won't get you killed some day."

Jensen stared at the other man, frowning. Had Jeff really considered he could be disloyal? Jeff had taken him in when he was out there all by himself, had given him a place to sleep, food to eat, clothes to dress in and the trust to pull his weight. Why would he pay this debt with disloyalty?

"What about the Pellegrinos? Did they offer you a deal, too?" Jeff asked after a few moments of silence.

"No. They just tried to make a sieve out of me."

Jeff looked straight at Jensen, a hint of apprehension on his face. "You're okay though?"

"Alive and kicking," Jensen confirmed.

"Good. That's good. I..."

Whatever Jeff wanted to say was put on hold, because Fred and Allie returned to camp, with Fred rushing straight to Jeff's tent.

"Jeff!" He called, making both Jeff and Jensen stand up. Fred looked worked up, his left arm held tight to his torso, his face scrunched up in anger... or pain?

"What happened?" Jeff asked, taking in the man's appearance, eyes fixed to the spot on Fred's shoulder that was smeared in blood.

"We got ambushed by Pellegrinos," Fred panted. "Allie almost got thrown of her mare. They just popped out from nowhere and opened fire. Got a slug that caught in my shoulder."

"Is Allie alright?" Jensen asked worriedly.

"She's fine. Not a scratch. She shot two of them bastards off their steeds and then we managed to lose them in the woods west of here," Fred explained.

"Mrs. Rhodes," Jeff called out to the woman in question. "We need your medical expertise here. Fred, go have her patch you up and then you gotta tell me more about this. You're not the only ones who had a run in with them Pellegrinos."

"What?" Fred asked.

"They ambushed me, too," Jensen explained before Kim grabbed Fred by the other arm and pulled him towards the tent with the medical supplies.

"Bullet still in there, Mr. Lehne?" She asked.

"Err, I don't really know," he replied, pulling his arm free and following her on his own volition, Jeff and Jensen watching on.

"What are the odds, Jeff? Two of our group getting waylaid by Pellegrinos in one day," Jensen mused.

"Yeah," Jeff growled. "I don't like it."

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

It was quiet the next morning in the camp at Black Oak Falls. Kim Rhodes was up cooking coffee over the camp fire and old Jim made sure he was first in line for the steaming, bitter liquid. Kim eyed him with a disapproving look.

"If you were putting as much energy into doing camp chores as you put in being first to get coffee, nobody else would ever have to chop wood again," she said, shaking her head.

"You know I can't do camp chores anymore, Mrs. Rhodes. I got arthritis. It's a serious condition," Jim replied, holding out his tin cup.

"You weaseling out of commitments is a serious condition, Mr. Beaver," Kim said reproachfully. "Your arthritis seems to be activated by the mention of physical labor only. But when there's extras to be picked up, it magically disappears."

"Don't you patronize me, dear lady. I've fought in the war. I served my country. Surely I deserve some coffee to wake up my spirits," Jim grunted, shoving the cup right under her nose. With a sigh, she took the container and poured the desired black beverage.

"Are you sure it's the coffee that wakes your spirits or the actual spirits that you add in when you think nobody is watching?" Kim asked as she returned the now full cup to its owner.

A soft laughter behind them caused both to turn around. Jensen was shaking his head in amusement and held out his own cup towards Kim.

"You really don't have to hide that, Jim. Everyone knows. Good morning to y'all, by the way."

"Morning, ma boy," Kim replied with a smile and proceeded to fill Jensen's mug. "What are you doing up already?"

"Couldn't sleep anymore," Jensen shrugged. He didn't mention that the reason for it was the encounter with the Pellegrinos and the fact that Jared was still out there. Kim raised an eyebrow and Jensen sighed. "Been wondering about the run-ins with the Pellegrinos. You think it's just a coincidence?"

Kim shrugged and opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted by Alex, who was on watch, shouting out to someone approaching the camp.

"Who's there?" Alex demanded, weapon at the ready.

"Put that old Hickory to rest, boy. It's just me," Misha called as he and Kenny trotted into camp. Jensen groaned inwardly at the comment, wishing it had been Jared and Matt who returned rather than Misha. 

"He sounds way too cheerful," Kim remarked and Jensen scoffed before taking a big sip of his coffee. 

"And too awake," he grumbled, heading towards his tent in an attempt to escape the man. Jim had already bailed and disappeared behind the ammunition wagon.

"Mrs. Kim," Misha shouted across the camp, inadvertedly making sure whoever was still asleep would be awake now. "Pour me a coffee, please. And add some sugar."

"Mr. Collins," Kim Rhodes replied sternly. "I am not your hostess so get your ass over here and do it yourself. Sugar is at Mr. Sheppard's, still."

"What, no service for the men who risked their lives for the group?" Misha asked. "We brought back money for the camp funds, surely a coffee for reward is not too much to ask."

"Coffee is all yours," Kim replied and sighed in relief when Jeff appeared from his tent and joined the commotion. He walked up to Misha and patted him on the shoulder.

"Good to see you back. I trust you've been successful? No trouble?"

"Of course," Misha replied as if Jeff had just asked him whether water is wet. "No questions, no trouble. Work well done, as usual."

Jensen, perched on his cot in his tent a few feet away, just shook his head, a gesture that didn't escape Misha.

"What's the matter, cowpoke? Your gig didn't work out?" The challenge in Misha's words was unmistakeable.

"Oh, my gig worked out just fine. More than fine, actually. It's just, work well done and you in one sentence, it doesn't add up," Jensen replied, sipping the last of his coffee.

"You got a problem with me?" Misha asked, stepping right in front of Jensen, forcing him to look up. Jensen shrugged.

"I just think if things your side went flawlessly, without a doubt that is thanks to Kenny," he replied smoothly.

Misha grimaced and clenched his hands, trying to figure out whether to punch Jensen or grab him by the lapels and shake some sense into him. A calming hand on his shoulder stopped his thoughts.

"Knock it off, both of you," Jeff instructed.

Misha stepped back but it was obvious the whole thing was bubbling inside him, and Jensen was sure he wouldn't let it go.

"You may know how to fight, cowpoke, but you sure can't think for shit," Misha growled.

Jensen put on a smirk, still sitting on his cot. "Yeah well, you can do neither."

It took both Jeff's arms to keep Misha from launching himself at Jensen and he pushed the enraged man back until they were on the other side of the camp.

"Just, let it go, Misha. You did well, don't let him rile you up," Jeff said. "Just go get your coffee." Misha just looked at Jeff, teeth clenched, breathing heavily.

"He may be your prized pony, Jeff, but I swear to God, one day I'm gonna punch his lights out." With that Misha turned and stomped off. Taking a deep breath, Jeff shook his head and walked back to Jensen.

"You just can't stop riling him up, can you?"

Jensen shrugged. "He asked for it. If he's fine dishing out all the jibes in my direction, he must be able to handle the echo. Why are we keeping him around again?"

"He's useful," Jeff pointed out.

"Useful?" Jensen raised one eyebrow.

"He finds jobs and gigs," Jeff reiterated.

"Yeah, and then more often than not he messes them up."

"He didn't mess this one up, Jensen," Jeff declared, his tone making it clear that he considered the topic closed. Jensen just shot Jeff a look and then got up to see to his horse.

 

*****

 

It was early afternoon when Jensen became antsy. Sure, Jared's trip to Jacksonville had been the furthest out, but Misha and Kenny were back a few hours already. Just as he decided to take Rascal ride out to look for them, the two men trotted into camp.

As Jensen walked up to them, he watched their movements as they dismounted. At least at first glance they looked alright and Jensen relaxed. 

"Hey guys," Jensen greeted as he stepped up to them.

"Hey Jensen," Matt returned the greeting while Jared's lips turned into a tiny smile for a split second. 

"Ackles," he nodded in acknowledgement.

"Oh," Matt started. "I thought you two kinda talked it out?"

"We did," Jensen confirmed.

"Okay. Then why the... 'Ackles'?" Matt looked confused. Jared shrugged.

"Force of habit," he said. "If I were still angry I would only have glared at him."

"Good to know," Jensen smirked. "How was your trip?"

Jared patted Arrow's neck and offered her an apple. Then he looked at Jensen.

"Well, we got the money, but we saw some Pinkertons." Jensen opened his mouth at Jared's words, but Jared continued. "They didn't see us. We were just out of the bank, walking to our horses when they came riding in. So we set sail."

"Right. But you're sure they were Pinkertons?"

"They were," Matt chimed in. "You can already tell by the way they dress and ride."

"True that," Jensen nodded.

"More alarmingly, though, we almost got dumped down Rattlesnake Gorge by those damned Pellegrinos," Jared added. 

"What?" Jensen's eyes grew wide.

"We had just accessed the Neverbridge crossing Rattlesnake Gorge when they popped up on the other side and started shooting. Matt here almost got unseated by his rearing horse. Man, I hate hanging bridges," Jared explained.

"How many?" Jensen pressed out as his mouth had suddenly gone dry.

"Only two," Matt replied. "Jared got the one square in the chest and I'm not sure who of us got the other one."

"That's not good," Jensen murmured and shook his head.

"Um, what's not good?" Jared asked.

"On my way back I ran into Pinkertons and Pellegrinos. And Fred has a bullet hole in his shoulder because of some Pellegrinos him and Allie ran into. Too many encounters in just one day. I didn't like it before, I like it even less, now."

Looking up, Jensen checked where Jeff was and then nodded towards Jared and Matt to follow him. 

Jeff kept his face an unreadable mask when Jared and Matt repeated their encounters. Jensen knew the expression, knew he was thinking, mulling over things, options, and figuring out a way to deal with it.

"Alright," Jeff finally said. "It's obvious something's going on. One could almost think the Pellegrinos are working with the Pinkertons. But I know Mark. Him working with the law, that just doesn't sound right. At any rate, we have to be careful."

"Well, if either of them knew our camp they'd be swarming this place, so we gotta make sure we're not being followed," Jensen stated.

"We gotta make sure nobody here leaves the camp alone," Jeff replied. "Not for hunting, not for anything. Until we know what's really going on. Jared, make sure everyone here knows that."

"Misha went out alone, earlier," Allie said. She'd joined the group just in time to hear Jeff's instructions.

"Right," Jeff nodded. "Well, from now on then, nobody else goes out alone."

"Jeff!" 

Mark Sheppard was walking over to the small group. Jeff turned to look at him.

"Any chance you can send out someone for meat? The stew will last for today and after that there's only a few rabbits left. No way that'll last long," Mark reported.

"Hunting party. Hmmm, Jensen, you up for it?" Jeff looked at the younger man.

"Sure," Jensen replied with a quick smile.

"I'll go, too," Jared added. Jensen looked surprised for a split second and then nodded. 

"Sounds good to me. If you're sure you don't need to rest, first?"

"I rested all night, Ackles. I can go hunt with you," Jared retorted and then grinned.

"Great. I know there's good deer hunting at Eastern Heartlands," Jensen suggested. "It's a bit to ride but we should get there by dusk and have a good shot at catching them while they're feeding."

"Boys, just promise me, no risks. Rather take up camp there where it's safe. Don't become the hunted instead of the hunter."

Jensen pondered for a moment. "We'll see how things go. Thanks, Jeff."

 

*****

 

The sun was hanging low when Jensen and Jared reached the Eastern Heartlands. Leaving the main trail, Jensen headed to where he knew was a small creek separating the meadowy landscape. They left the horses in a slight dip and picked their weapons. 

Jensen took down his hunting bow as well as the Springfield rifle, in case the bow didn't do the trick. Jared also took the bow, but preferred to back it up with a Winchester rifle. Crouching low, both men slowly approached the creek, using the sparse brush as cover and making sure they were staying out of the wind.

Half a dozen good sized deer were at the creek, some quenching their thirst whilst others grazed on the grass. Each horse was capable of transporting one adult deer, so the aim was for them each shooting one. Using handsigns, Jensen pointed out with specimen he'd be aiming at, leaving Jared to pick from the remaining ones. Jared nodded when he set eyes on the one he chose and pulled back the bow.

The arrow shot from the string, catching the deer right where Jared wanted to, dropping the animal immediately. When he lowered his weapon, Jared heard Jensen's arrow hissing through the air and a moment later another deer dropped. The other animals' heads shot up in alarm and they turned to flee, but Jensen was quick. Dropping his bow and aiming the Springfield took merely a few moments, the loud report from the Springfield cut the air and a third deer collapsed mid stride.

"Impressive," Jared said appreciatively. "But how do we get three deer carcasses home?"

"We don't," Jensen replied with a smirk. "We load them onto our horses now, find a spot to camp and then store two of them in one tent. The one left over, we break up and grill the meat for provisions, pack the rest in the saddle bags."

Jared cocked his head. "Sounds like a plan."

Soon the fire was crackling and the smell of freshly fried game mixed with some thyme caused Jared to salivate at the prospect. They had deposited the gutted carcasses in the tent, covering it with the hide of the third animal and were now sitting in front of the other tent, grilling their meat. Once they had filled their stomachs as well as their satchels and saddle bags with the leftovers, a somewhat peaceful silence, only disrupted by the crackling of the fire, spread over the small camp.

For no apparent reason Jensen noticed their knees almost touching the way they were sitting at the fire and he twisted his body minutely to create the connection. The moments his knee pressed against Jared's, a spark of desire and need rushed down his spine and he felt Jared's eyes on him.

"Jensen?"

"Yup?" Jensen's voice sounded a bit off and he kept staring into the fire.

"Are you, um... are we...," Jared wasn't sure how to say what he wanted to say. "Are we okay?"

Jensen's head jerked around to look at him. "Why shouldn't we be?"

"Well, the last year? And then all this out in the open - between us I mean - is still new. I mean, I kinda jumped your bones and..."

"I kissed you back, didn't I?" Jensen interjected.

"Yeah, you did," Jared grinned. "But, this is all so new and takes some getting used to and I was afraid that maybe..."

"Maybe I'd change my mind?" Jensen asked. When Jared nodded he took a deep breath. "I wouldn't, Jared. Yes, this is all new, and on top, something that people get killed for. But I got no regrets, I'm not gonna change my mind. We gotta be careful, but I know we can make it. Being with you, being close to you like this," he looked down at where their knees touched, "it feels good. It feels right, and I wouldn't wanna swap this for anything in the world."

Jensen stretched out his arm to pull Jared's frame closer. Their eyes met and Jensen without a conscious thought bit his lip, drawing a soft whimper from Jared. Then Jensen's lips were on the younger man's lips and, leaning in, Jensen started nibbling and kissing his way into Jared's mouth. It took Jared a second to realize what was happening. Then he was kissing back until they were both breathless. 

"Does that feel like I got regrets?" Jensen panted, causing Jared to smile like an idiot. Growing bold, he reached out to cup his hand over the growing hardness in Jensen's jeans. 

"It feels like you're enjoying this a lot, cowpoke," he replied.

"Damn you," Jensen growled, pushing Jared against his chest until he was laying down. Without hesitation, Jensen placed his thigh across Jared's to keep him down, and then started kissing him for real. 

Jared responded readily, enjoying the feel of Jensen's weight pinning him down. Jensen's crotch was pressed against Jared's hip and the feel of his erection pressing into him made Jared's own dick throb in his pants. Bucking up his hip caused Jensen to groan and rejoin the motion.

Having lost track of time, Jared had no idea how long they'd been kissing, when he felt Jensen's hand fumbling with his holster buckle and then his belt. A moment later, Jensen's hand pushed into his jeans and closed around his erection. Jared closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure.

Jensen's heart skipped a beat at the sound that escaped Jared's kiss swollen lips and he started jerking the hard length a few times before moving further down to cup his balls. Jared's eyes flew open and he gasped as Jensen gently squeezed and then worked his hand even further until the tips of his fingers brushed over Jared's anus.

"Fuck," Jared hissed, bucking his hips up. "Do that again."

With a smile, Jensen obliged and Jared squeezed his eyes shut as his body tensed in pleasure. Jensen pushed himself up above Jared and used both hands to pull down the other's jeans and underwear to mid thigh. Jared's cock sprang free and Jensen licked his lips. He wrapped his hand around the engorged flesh and brought his tongue down on the tip.

Jared hummed appeciatively and Jensen licked and nibbled a bit before taking the head into his mouth. Panting harshly, Jared bucked up. Jensen wet a finger which then found Jared's hole again as he kept licking off the precum that was leaking down.

"Feels so good," Jared panted, incapable of staying still. "So much better than when I do it." Jensen let go of Jared with a pop and grinned. 

"You've been feeling yourself up, cowboy?"

"A few times," Jared admitted.

"Damn, that's hot," Jensen all but purred before putting a bit more pressure on his finger and then adding a second.

"Jensen," Jared groaned, moving his ass. 

"Jare, you're driving me crazy," Jensen mumbled and then sealed his lips once more over Jared's erection, taking in as much as he could while working his fingers just inside his ass. Jared didn't reply, all he could do was pant between moans.

"I'm getting close," Jared keened when Jensen added a third finger. "Please, can you?"

"Can I what, sweetheart?" Jensen's eyes were glued to Jared's lips in anticipation of the answer.

"I need to... can you... I wanna feel you inside me," Jared finally managed to say, hand squeezing Jensen's rock hard dick to make sure he got the meaning.

"Are you sure?" Jensen whispered. Jared nodded.

"Yes."

With a growl, Jensen first removed Jared's jeans completely before undoing his own holster and belt. Shoving down the clothing in record time, Jensen held on to his dick when Jared pulled up his legs, granting him access. Gathering his precum with a swipe of his thumb, Jensen rubbed it into Jared's exposed hole before spreading the rest over his shaft, before lining up the head with slight pressure.

He needed to be inside Jared so bad he was trembling all over but wanted a final confirmation that it was really okay. Looking up to meet Jared's eyes, Jensen saw the desire in them and that was all he needed to feel at ease. Willing himself to go slow, he pushed past the barrier bit by bit, feeling Jared stretch around his cock like he'd been made just for him.

Once his balls were flush with Jared's ass, he paused, eyes roaming about Jared's face anew. Jared looked back at him, seeing the unspoken question. Instead of an answer, he squeezed around Jensen's cock, drawing a surprised moan from him. Jensen's mouth fell open as he savoured the feeling but when Jared repeated the action, it was all Jensen could do not to blow his load right away.

"Move," Jared rasped, when Jensen's eyes fell on his once more.

"I'm gonna cum if I do that," Jensen panted and Jared grinned.

"That's the plan, y'know."

Jared repeated the action and Jensen growled, pushing into Jared who gasped.

"You asked for it," Jensen said in between thrusts. Picking up speed, his head fell back exposing his throat. Jared bit his lips at the sight and moved to counteract Jensen's motions. Jensen changed the angle somewhat and grabbed on to Jared's cock, jerking roughly. 

"Fuck," Jared groaned and shuddered as he spilled all over himself. The sight and the extra tightness Jared's orgasm created pushed Jensen over the egde and he came inside the other man. Lazily pumping through both their climaxes, Jensen finally collapsed on top of Jared.

For a few long moments they both lay boneless, trying to catch their breath. Jensen wasn't sure if he'd ever have the power to move again. His head was resting on Jared's heaving chest, his heart beat threatening to lull him to sleep.

Jared enjoyed feeling Jensen's weight on him but he knew they'd have to move sooner or later, unless they wanted to go to sleep and never wake up in the morning. Gently he shook Jensen's shoulder.

"C'mon, man, you gotta move," he said softly.

Jensen grunted but didn't move, so Jared shoved at him a bit harder. With a sigh, Jensen rolled off him and reluctantly both of them began cleaning up and getting back into their jeans. 

Finally they stretched out on their bedrolls next to the fire, staring into the crackling flames. Jared reached over, pulling Jensen close.

"Whatcha doing, Jare?" Jensen mumbled.

"It's called cuddling, dumbass," Jared replied with a smile.

"I don't do cuddles," Jensen replied and Jared snickered.

"Get used to it, 'cause that's how I roll." Jared wrapped his arms tighter around Jensen and pressed a kiss to his temple. Slowly Jensen relaxed into his embrace, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in Jared's arms. A silly smile crept onto his face when he realized he could get used to this.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some words in this chapter I had to look up to sort of stay somewhat in time. Not sure if everyone knows the connections so here they are.
> 
>  **Punk** \- common in old-time ranch lingo regarding sexual relationships among cowboys
> 
>  **Chuck-Line Rider** – An unemployed cowboy who rode from ranch to ranch, exchanging a bit of news and gossip for a meal.

After returning to camp with more than enough meat for a few days, Jensen and Jared tried to stay out of each other's hair, each doing their own thing, just to prevent anyone from wondering too hard. Jared had been out scouting with Jeff and a day later was running an errand with Kenny while Jensen made sure to pull his weight around the camp, getting water from the miniature pool by the waterfall or feeding the horses, fixing some tent liners and finding herbs for Sheppard to see that there was a variety of flavors in the food.

When Jared and Kenny returned early afternoon, they both made sure the wagon of supplies they brought got to the right spot, preferably out of reach for Jim, who had a thing for gunning for the liquor immediately. After finishing off, the two returned to the center of the camp, taking a seat at the table, enjoying a beer for their efforts.

Taking a big sip, Jared set the bottle back on the table and looked around. His gaze got hooked on the wood chopping block and his jaw dropped. Kenny noticed Jared's distraction and followed his line of vision. The center of Jared's attention was Jensen working the axe. Judging by the amount of split wood collected in an ever growing heap next to Jensen, the man had been at it for some time already.

"It's always the same people doing chores, Jim, Fred, Misha... they always have an excuse. Jim has arthritis, Fred might just split his foot - again, and Misha might break a nail," Kenny stated, shaking his head. Then his head shot up. "Talking of nails, I better bring Mrs. Rhodes that file she requested."

Finishing his beer, Kenny got up and clapped Jared's shoulder before leaving. Jared just looked up briefly and then returned his gaze to where Jensen was still chopping. Beer forgotten, Jared watched as Jensen took a moment to wipe the sweat of his forehead with his rolled up sleeve before taking off the drenched shirt and tossing it aside.

The sun was still burning down warm but that was not the reason Jared was suddenly feeling hot. Jensen had picked up the axe once more, giving Jared a perfect view of his muscles in action. Muscles hidden under sweat glistening freckled skin, reflecting in the sunlight.

"Just who is he trying to impress," a voice next to Jared startling him from his awestruck admiration. "Proper women prefer brains to muscles, but of course, if ya don't have the one..." Misha grumbled.

"The only women you know get paid for their services," Jared replied with a glare. "They don't care for brains nor muscles, just money."

Misha frowned. "Since when do you defend Jeff's pretty golden boy, mop head? Besides, he really ain't that pretty with all them scars."

"You're jealous, Collins. Is it cos Allie won't look at you twice?" Jared asked, wishing he could just punch the man. "She got standarts, that girl."

"Fuck you, Padalecki. Just for your information, it ain't you she's looking at, either." Misha spat.

"No, Allie likes brains, muscles _and_ scars," Kim's voice floated over into their argument. Misha glared at the woman while Jared quietly smiled to himself. A week ago that statement would have drawn a similar reaction from him, but now he knew better. "Jeff is looking for you, Mr. Collins. Over by the waterfall."

Misha shot one parting angry look in Jensen's direction and then turned to leave. Kim looked on as he stomped away and shook her head.

"Thanks," Jared sighed and smiled at the older woman.

"What for?"

"Saving me from a senseless pissing contest with Mr. Bigshot there," Jared explained, jerking his head in the direction Misha had disappeared into.

"You know, he's just jealous, right, Jared?" Kim Rhodes stated, searching out Jared's eyes.

"Jealous? Of whom?"

"Oh, Jensen, for one. When Misha joined the crew not long after you left, he assumed because he was a seasoned gunslinger..." Kim was interrupted by a scoff from Jared. "Well, that's what he thinks of himself. Anyway, he assumed that automatically that plus the fact he's older than Jensen, would put him in the spot of being Jeff's right hand."

"Ouch," Jared winced in fake sympathy.

"Exactly. To Misha, Jensen is nothing but a spoiled kid that seems to be somewhat good looking despite those cougar scratches. Of course to his mind, no-one is as dashing as he himself. So he has a hard time understanding that most women in this group, but especially Allie, seem to be, and I quote, all over a speckled brat with bow legs. And then you returned and knocked him down a peg or two in regards to being in Jeff's grace. Only reason he didn't target you so far was that you and Jensen hated each other. Now, since that feud seems to be resolved more or less..."

"I understand," Jared nodded. Then he looked up. "Did he really call Jensen a speckled brat?"

"No," Jensen's voice resounded from behind Jared's back and he turned, almost gasping loudly when he set eyes on the other man. Jensen was still shirtless, sweat glistening all over his torso, freckles still standing out from the slightly tanned skin. "He called me a scratched up, speckled brat."

"Wha...?" Jared frowned as he shook himself to loosen the spell Jensen's current condition rendered him into. "What an arrogant little shit."

"I wanted to punch him, but sadly the bastard didn't say it to my face. Ruthie told me later but when I wanted to confront him about it, Misha was out of camp. So I resorted to bribing Sheppard here to add some extra cayenne pepper to his next dish. You should have seen the color on Misha's face. A tomato was pale in comparison."

Jensen smirked at the memory, using his discarded shirt that he had brought over to wipe the sweat off bis brow. When he looked up there were two sets of eyes on him.

"What? It has to be washed anyways," he said with a shrug.

"So do you, young man," Kim replied sternly. "Don't even think about putting on a clean one before taking a bath."

"Yes, mom," Jensen grinned.

"Um, you might wanna wait a bit if you're headed to the waterfalls for it," Jared squeaked and cleared his throat. "Jeff and Misha are having a pow-wow there."

"Oh?" Jensen raised an eyebrow. "Ah well, Rascal needs some cleaning, too, so I'll do that, first. I will be clean for supper, Mrs. Rhodes," Jensen grinned reassuringly. Then he headed towards the horses, leaving Jared and Kim to stare after him.

 

*****

 

Jeff was standing at the edge of the pool the waterfall had created with its massive power and took a final draw from his cigarette when he saw Misha approaching. He snipped the still glowing butt into the water where it sizzled briefly and then floated away and turned to face the other man.

"Jeff," Misha nodded in greeting. "Mrs. Rhodes said you wanted a chat?"

Jeff chuckled briefly and nodded. "That what she said, eh?" Misha just shrugged with a crooked smile.

"So, what can I do for you, Morgan?"

Jeff looked Misha up and down and then walked over two steps to lean against a massive tree.

"Mark said he heard some talking last time he was in town. Something about a stage coach with precious cargo that's supposed to pass here in a few days," Jeff started.

"Thought we were supposed to lay low with all them Pinkertons sniffing around," Misha said. "And I thought the cowpoke traded enough money for those bonds to last us a while."

"You know me, Collins. Excellent opportunity like this I can't resist. Just the same, we'd need more info. Now, Sheppard ain't the kind of man to extract anything useful. I would like you to accompany him to town, let him get some supplies and you can do some sniffing for information, sound good to you?"

Misha pulled a duck face briefly, thinking. "Sure. But why don't you ask your pretty boy to do that? Thought he's the answer to all problems."

Jeff frowned. "Jealousy is unbecoming, even to you," he replied pointedly. "But if you must know, there are too many Pellegrinos around."

"Aww, you worried they might use Ackles for target practise?"

"Mark Pellegrino knows Jensen too well. He's told every man of his exactly what he looks like. And we know those bastards are sniffing around already. Don't wanna risk them getting wind of where we are camped unneccessarily. Your face is fairly new to our group," Jeff explained with a growl.

"I see your point," Misha replied, deciding to back off because as much as he didn't mind pissing of Jensen, he did want to stay in Jeff's good graces. "I'll escort our cooking queen to town and will keep my eyes and ears open."

"Good," Jeff nodded, the grim expression softening again. "I'll tell Mark to get ready."

Jeff walked past Misha back towards camp and Misha followed suit.

Half an hour later Mark Sheppard let Misha know the wagon was ready to get going, so Misha went over to where his mare was hitched. As he approached, his gaze went over to the narrow path leading to the waterfall and he stopped dead in his tracks.

Jared was leaning against the tree that Jeff had used for support earlier, eyes trained on something in the water. He was talking but too far away for Misha to make out any words. Following the direction Jared was looking in Misha finally made out the other person present.

Jeff's prized pony was standing in midst of the waterfall, obviously using the falling water to wash any grime, dirt and sweat off his body. Many of their camp made use of the waterfall like that, and usually the women went there in small groups to make sure they would not be disturbed. Jensen just had Jared there as a watchdog, apparently.

As Misha wanted to move on he noticed Jensen diving into the pool before climbing out on the side close to Jared, naked as the day he was born. Misha watched as he shook the water from his head and then went over to where his clothes were laying next to Jared. That alone wasn't all too weird yet but usually the person keeping watch would turn their backs if the person washing had really gone all nude. From what he could tell, there was no fabric on Jensen but Jared seemed unconcerned enjoying the view. Misha scowled, itching to shout something damning to the two but Sheppard chose that moment to call him. Complying quickly as to prevent those two cowpokes noticing him staring, Misha unhitched his horse and walked over to Mark.

 

*****

 

Jared was watching the water cascade down Jensen's body as the other man rinsed the soap from his hair. Jensen had asked him to play lookout once they had seen Jeff and Misha abandon the waterfalls. He'd been sweaty and dirty after brushing Rascal's coat and just didn't want to wait until sundown to wash off the sticky layer of grime. Jared had quickly agreed and Jensen had just snatched the bar of soap and some clean clothes before stripping off his dirty ones and diving into the cool water.

Once he had cooled off enough he'd grabbed a rag and the soap and began lathering himself up in the belly deep water, making sure to give his arms a good scrub as they seemed to have gathered the most dirt.

"Trying to scrub off your skin?" Jared laughed, unsure whether he was glad or unhappy that Jensen was waist deep hidden in water.

"Just making sure Mrs. Rhodes doesn't drag me back here to do the job herself," Jensen winked.

"You telling me you need help?"

Jensen leared. "You offering?"

Jared's head turned beet red and he was glad no-one else was around to witness this. If Jeff heard any of this he would kick both of them out for sure. Jensen cackled at Jared's display of embarrassment and then collected enough foam in his hands to work through his wet hair. Some soap decided to run down his face and burn his eyes so he decided to wash it out quickly.

"Coast clear?" He asked, squinting.

Jared looked towards the camp and then nodded. "Nobody in sight."

"Thanks, Nobody," Jensen jested and waded over a few steps to where the water was foaming up from the fall hitting the surface. Inching his way right into the falling water, he leaned back his head to let the water do its job, well aware that where he was standing, the pool was only deep enough to emerge his thighs. He wished he could peek out to see whether Jared was looking but he knew that was the case anyways.

"You trying to kill me?" Jared called over the noise of the fall, just loud enough for Jensen to make out the words. He grinned. Finally feeling confident that all traces of soap had left his hair, Jensen stepped forward and took a nose dive into the deeper part of the pool, swimming just below the surface up to where Jared was leaning against a tree.

"Like the view?" Jensen jested and revelled in the coy grin spreading over Jared's face. "Well, I'm getting out now," he warned and waited a split second to give Jared time to turn if he wanted. He didn't, so Jensen just mustered his verbal bravado and made good on his promise. He shook his head, sending droplets of water flying everywhere, which earned him an indignant grunt from Jared. Grinning, Jensen walked the few steps to his deposited clothes and started dressing.

"Collins, you ready yet?"

Mark Sheppards disembodied voice easily carried across all of the camp and caused Jared and Jensen to jump slightly. A quick glance around didn't reveal any unwanted audience however. They both knew even though nothing had happened, some people already counted a man watching another man nude as unnatural behavior.

"C'mon, Jared," Jensen mumbled as he buckled his gun belt and rolled up the sleeves of his dark red plaid shirt before taking his hat into his hands. "Let's get back to camp before anyone gets the wrong idea."

"Which kinda would be the right idea," Jared sighed. "Yeah, I know. Let's go."

 

******

 

When the sun was beginning to set, camp life gathered at the fire. Since Sheppard was on an errand, Ruthie had taken care of the pot of stew. The result was that everyone was eager to eat because everyone knew yet nobody would say it out loud, but Mark's cooking talents weren't very refined. So anytime Ruthie was taking over spicing and nurturing the stew was like christmas for the gang.

The fire was raging on in the center and everyone but Jared, who was on guard duty, was gathered around, eating, talking and drinking. When Misha and Mark returned they quickly found themselves some space and dug in, too.

Allie was sitting next to Jensen, making sure he didn't run out of bread chunks and drink. At first, Jensen didn't take much note of it, but after his third bottle of beer had somehow magically refilled, he looked at Allie who grinned.

"Trying to get me drunk, Al?" Jensen teased. Allie blushed slightly.

"Just making sure you are not going hungry," she replied. Jeff looked up and chuckled. Almost everyone had finished eating and was just nursing on some beer or brandy and Kenny reached out for the guitar that belonged to Jim who never even used it anymore. Apparently the arthritis had taken hold of his fingers, too.

"Matt," Jeff called over to the man who had just kicked up his feet on an unoccupied part of a tree stump. "Why don't you go over and swap places with Jared. Gotta make sure the boy also gets some of Ruthie's stew."

Matt nodded and picked himself up while Mark's eyebrows knotted up. He knew what everyone was thinking and he didn't like it but he would rather bite off his tongue than ask Ruthie to tell him her spicing secret. Nah, he'd just keep experimenting until he got it right.

When Jared arrived at the fire, Kenny had decided on a tune and a few were already singing along. Jared grabbed himself a bowl of stew and then squeezed in between Jensen and Allie, earning himself a bewildered look from the girl. She pointed at the spot Matt had vacated but Jared only grinned and shrugged before tucking in. Relenting, Allie moved a bit to give him some more space, face broody as she tried to figure out Jared's motives.

Jeff had been watching the whole scene, corner of his mouth turned up slightly in amusement. The fact that Jensen didn't move away or tell Jared to sit elsewhere confirmed that the young men really had resolved their differences and Jeff couldn't believe what kind of a weight that lifted from him.

Misha was already onto the second bottle of moonshine, his self declared favorite poison, and it was beginning to show in his speech as he started to slur the lyrics of the song Kenny was playing merrily.

Once Jared had finished his stew, Kim volunteered to exchange the empty bowl for a full beer bottle, which he gladly took and then settled back into his meager slot between Allie and Jensen. He could feel the warmth of Jensen's leg where it was touching his and he thoroughly enjoyed it.

In between songs Kenny sipped from a bottle of brandy that Fred had offered him before picking a different key to start the next song. It was one that reminded Jensen of the time when he and Jared were the youngest at camp and barely able to shoot, as Jeff always said when he brought up their antics from back when the gang was merely Fred, Jeff, Mrs. Rhodes, Jensen and Jared. Jensen grinned and began bouncing his foot to the beat. Jared felt his leg tingle where Jensen's rubbed against his and his eyes were on Jensen's big smile as the man watched Kenny's fingers dance across the strings. Towards the end of the song, Kenny messed up however and growled in frustration before taking another sip of brandy.

"That won't help get it right, boy," Jensen laughed and held out his hand, gesturing for the instrument. "Let me show you how it's done."

"You wanna play?" Kenny asked. Jensen nodded. "Can you even play?"

"Don't underestimate my boy, Kenny," Jeff chimed in. "He's been making the strings sing way before he could shoot an arrow straight from the bow."

Kenny's eyes got big and he handed the guitar over to Jensen, who took it and ran his fingers lovingly over the wood.

"What do you wanna hear then?" Jensen asked, looking around.

"'The old Chisholm Trail'," Allie beamed and Jensen briefly narrowed his eyes, recalling the chords as he hadn't played in a good while. Not after Jared had left the group. A memory flooded his brain and he laughed before leaning over to Jared, resting his arm on his shoulder and whispering into his ear. Jared listened intently and then laughed out loud which somehow made Jensen laugh even harder.

"Ya g'nna sing then, cowpoke? Cos if ya cuddle that beanpole any longer, decent men might get ideas, punks," Misha grumbled.

Sobering quickly Jensen frowned. "Just watch what y're calling people, chuck-line rider," he shot back. 

"No need to get offensive, both of you," Jeff cut in.

"Why not?" Misha growled. "Jus' look how they're sittin', almost on top o' each other. 'N earlier t'day beanpole was ogglin' him takin' a bath."

Removing his arm from Jared's shoulder, Jensen was glad the sun had set and the shine of the fire wasn't enough to give away he was blushing slightly. Gritting his teeth, he hoped his voice would be nonchalent enough not to give him away.

"He was doing lookout duty, slow poke, not watching me," Jensen retorted. "And you're loaded to the gunwhales."

"Boys," Kim Rhodes stepped in, bringing out her stern voice. "I really don't think we need to have this pleasant evening turning ugly. Mr. Collins was very fond of the liquor tonight and I think it's best if he's quiet now."

Quiet it was, not only Misha. Jeff had drawn his eyebrows together, contemplating what the drunk man had said and how close the boys were still sitting. He could understand how Misha got the notion, but he knew the boys. He knew better. Squaring his jaw, Jeff took a deep breath before putting on a slightly vexed smile.

"I don't like quiet," Alex finally said. "I would like to find out if Jensen can play the guitar better than Kenny. The Chisholm Trail ain't an easy song to play."

Misha groaned and got up, clearly annoyed by the whole situation and stumbled off to his tent, almost tripping over the frame that held the pot of stew. Everyone else breathed a sigh of relief and then settled their eyes expectantly on Jensen and the guitar.

"Alright, alright," Jensen laughed, tension leaving his body as no-one seemed to pay any heed to Misha's words. He strummed the first chord, getting his fingers in position, cast a short glance at Jared and started. Soon the remaining folks at the fire joined in and even Matt's voice floated over from where he was standing guard.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My dear friend DarkSun made some **awesome** fan art of Jensen's cougar scars ♡♡♡
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

Jeff was up early the next morning, grabbing himself a steaming mug of mediocre coffee, before strolling around a mostly quiet camp. He could see old Jim standing guard, or rather, Jim was supposed to stand guard but was leaning against a heavy oak, eyes closed. Jeff chuckled. Due to the secluded location of their camp, guard duty was somewhat relaxed, but sleeping on the post still wasn't a good thing.

Picking up a palm sized rock, Jeff threw it in Jim's direction, hitting the tree with a thump loud enough to make Jim jump. Jim was ready to let loose with a tirade, thinking it was one of the young ones pranking him. When he saw Jeff shaking with laughter, he scowled, lifted his fist and shook it in Jeff's direction, making the man laugh even harder.

"Keep your eyes open, old man," Jeff called and turned, thus missing the tongue Jim stuck out at him behind his back. He walked on until his eyes fell on Jensen's sleeping form. The younger man was laying face down on his cot, tent flaps open to let some air circulate. His left arm was dangling over the edge, head turned so Jeff could easily make out the cougar scars running across the left side of his face. Jensen had been lucky the claws hadn't taken his eye. The scars had long lost their angry red color but were well visible, especially when the boy grew some stubble that highlighted the scars which went right down to the jaw line.

Jeff remembered how the pair had returned that day, Jared in full panic mode, Jensen's face and shoulder covered in blood. Mrs. Rhodes had cleaned and stitched the wounds, shooing Jared away a few times. By the time she had been done, Jensen had finished a whole bottle of bourbon, half of it having been poured as desinfectant over the wounds, the rest of it the boy had consumed as a pain killing agent. He'd been asleep pretty soon and Jared had hovered and fawned until Mrs. Rhodes had banned him from the tent.

At the time, Jeff had thought nothing of it. The boys had always been close, growing up together the way they did and Jared had been feeling guilty as hell. Jeff had lost count of how many times he and Jensen had told Jared it hadn't been his fault. And then, Jared was gone. Without as much as a word. No letter, no note, no nothing. They had no idea if something had happened, had searched all the nearby towns and prisons, even staked out a few gang camps to see if he had been taken. Never came across as much as a hoofprint from his horse.

About a year ago, as sudden as he had disappeared, he returned after being gone for a good few months, not once offering an explanation. And Jensen, Jensen had been mad. Jeff could tell although he hadn't shown it. Had taken Jared back in like he never left. Jeff guessed that the relief about Jared being alive and well outweighed the anger.

Jared, however, had been moody, angry, at times outride cold towards Jensen. He refused to use his name and constantly threw little jibes and remarks as well as fiery glares at Jensen. It had gone from bad to worse and Jeff had repeatedly talked to both of them to fix it. Jensen seemingly had no clue what had caused Jared's behavior whereas Jared just stubbornly set his jaw and refused.

Today, Jeff mused, today it seemed fixed. Out of the blue. Out of the mess that was the bank robbery in Williamsburg. And Jeff had been glad. The whole camp had been glad. And then Misha drunk talked up an idea in Jeff's mind that gnawed on him like a scavenger. He knew people still got hanged for engaging with their own gender, yet he had always thought about homophobic people as narrow-minded and mean-spirited. He'd never even bashed an eyelash when he'd stumbled upon Fred years and years back, totally drunk and all over some guy he'd met in a bar. Laughed about it is what they did afterwards. He couldn't be bothered to think much about people who prefered their own sex. It was their business. He didn't mind. Only now, there was this ugly feeling crawling up inside him that in fact he would mind if that person was his surrogate son.

Jeff started when he realized where his musings had carried him. Would it really bother him? Make him think differently about Jensen? Or Jared? His eyes were still glued on Jensen's slumbering features, the slightly open lips, the foot that hung over the edge of the cot, and the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

The sudden noise of tin cups clattering to the ground drew Jeff's attention away from Jensen and to the wagon of Mark Sheppard. Misha was stumbling around and tried to wrestle the pot away from their cook. Apparently his generous use of alcohol last night had left Misha in dire need of coffee upon coffee. 

Jeff walked over to see what the ruckus was all about. When Misha and Mark saw him approach, both of them started shouting at him, trying to get their point across.

"Both of you, be quiet! You wanna wake the whole camp? What's the deal?"

Misha had let go of the coffee pot whereas Mark was clutching it tightly to his chest now.

"Tell this short-legged poisoner to cough up the good stuff," Misha growled. "I swear he's been making two pots of coffee all the time now. That stuff in there," Misha pointed at the pot Mark was clutching, "tastes like it came from the finest café in Saintes Maries de l'Ouest, whereas that stuff over there by the fire tastes like yesterday's dish water."

"It's not my fault you're drinking away your taste buds, whiskey head," Mark retorted. "It's the same coffee in both pots, only the one over there is from last night. This here's freshly brewed."

"See? He's trying to poison me!"

"Guys!" Jeff called again. "Tone it down, camp's still asleep."

"I need some decent coffee, Morgan," Misha whined petulantly. "I still gotta tell you something and I can't do it without coffee. And lots of sugar."

Jeff sighed and held his hand out to Mark, who reluctantly handed over the liquid gold. 

"Spoiled brat," Mark muttered in Misha's direction and stomped off. Misha grinned, smug, and proceeded to pour his cafein dose, adding two heaps of sugar for good measure. When he'd downed the first gulps he sighed in contentment.

"That's a noise that I don't ever wanna hear again this early in the morning," a sleepy voice grumbled behind Jeff and Misha. "What's all the shouting about?"

Jensen was trudging towards the coffee, looking like he was a couple hours short of sleep.

"Oh, look what the cat dragged in," Misha muttered. Jensen just shot him a dirty look and went on to pour himself some coffee.

"Morning to you, too," he barked in direction of Jeff. Jeff grunted in response, hiding behind his steaming mug. Then he took a deep breath and smiled briefly.

"Cheers, boy. Misha was just about to tell me something," Jeff replied.

"Yeah?" Jensen's eyebrows perked up. "He leaving?"

"Oh can't you stop being like that so early in the morning," Jeff groaned and Jensen lifted his hands as a peace offering.

"Get him to stop pestering me and there won't be a problem, Jeff." Jensen said after taking a good sized sip of his black coffee. Misha opened his mouth to counter Jensen but Jeff held up his hand.

"Not now, Misha. Not now. How about you start sharing your information instead?"

Misha sighed and put his mug down.

"Right. Well, you asked me to keep my eyes open in town. Turns out, I saw no Pinkertons, but I did come across a Pellegrino rat. Strolled right up to my table, he did."

"Shit," Jeff cursed. "You telling me they got your face down already as well?"

"Sure have now, but that one, he said he recognized the cook I was with," Misha shrugged. "Never knew we had a famous chef on board."

"Sure can't tell by the taste," Jim piped up as he approached the table. "Rich has finally taken over guard duty. You got any coffee left?"

Misha pushed the rapidly emptying pot over and continued.

"Anyways, that Pellegrino said his boss has suggested a truce."

"A truce?" Both Jeff and Jensen shouted and Jim just shook his head.

"Sounds like a trap," old Jim muttered.

"Don't be so quick to judge," Misha countered. "Just hear me out. So, he suggested the truce so you and him," Misha nodded at Jeff, "can talk out your differences. Find a solution to keep out of each other's hair. Both our groups are having enough on our hands with them Pinkertons breathing down our necks."

"Still sounds like a trap," Jensen said, shaking his head and Jim nodded his agreement. 

"Big, ugly, stinking trap."

"You're stinking," Misha growled at the older man.

"Jeff," Jensen turned to their leader who furrowed his brow. "It's a trap. Clear as day. If you can't see that, then I dunno."

"You're always such a party pooper, cowpoke," Misha snarled but Jensen ignored him.

"Pellegrino is ambushing us left, right and center and now he wants a truce? If that's not a joke then it's a fucking TRAP!"

"What's a trap?" Kim Rhodes joined in. She was carrying the other pot of coffee and placed it on the table.

"That fresh?" Misha asked, eyes big. 

"I think you still have enough, Mr. Collins," Kim shot back. "Now, what's a trap?"

"Magic boy Misha says Mark Pellegrino offered a truce because we all have too much other crap to worry about. He wants a chat with Jeff," Jensen informed her.

"Yep," Kim nodded, smacking her lips. "Smells like a trap."

"What is it with everyone?" Jeff spoke angrily. "None of y'all interested in some respite? We surely have enough to worry about even without the Pellegrinos. Would it be so bad if we hadn't to consider their threat?"

By now also Jared, Matt, Alex and Kenny had aborted sleeping and more or less stumbled to the coffee source to see what was going on. Allie and Ruthie were whispering to each other, looking worried.

"I suggest," Jeff continued after a short break, " that we at least go and hear what they have to offer."

"We? Who's we?" Jared questioned, arms folded in front of his chest.

"The Pellegrino said his boss wants to see Jeff and each can bring one for support," Misha replied. 

"Misha and I will go," Jeff decided and everyone started talking in response. Jeff held up his hand for quiet. When the chatter died down, Jensen took the word.

"It's still a trap."

"It _could_ be a trap," Jeff finally conceded. "It doesn't have to be but it's possible. That's why you'll come with for security."

Jensen scoffed and shook his head slightly.

"Still not happy, punk?" Misha grouched. "I swear you're a real piece of work."

"Shut up, Collins," Jared growled.

"Boys!" Jeff warned. "Jensen, you're the best shot we have, especially over a distance. We'll find you a good spot to observe the meeting. Any sign of foul play, you take action. Sound good to you?"

Jensen took a deep breath, eyes meeting Jared's briefly. Jared was just as skeptical as he was. He could see it. But before he'd let Jeff walk into a trap... He shrugged.

"Guess so. But I don't like it."

"Fair enough. But I know you'll keep us safe. So, Misha... where and when?" Jeff actually looked somewhat relieved that Jensen had agreed to come. 

"Tatanka Pass, high noon," Misha supplied, curt.

"Right, that's quite a ride. But it's early, so, no rush. Mr. Sheppard, how about some breakfast?"

Mark refrained from rolling his eyes, just nodded and went to work. Kim and Ruthie followed him. Jensen finished his coffee and got up. If he had a long ride ahead, he'd make sure Rascal got a decent portion of hay to start his day. Allie followed him and helped distribute the hay to all the horses.

"You really think it's a trap?" She asked. Jensen, who had picked up the brush to clean Rascal's coat, stopped mid stroke.

"I hope it isn't one," he replied. Allie nodded.

"But you believe it."

"I'm with Jensen," Jared piped up. "There's no way that Mark Pellegrino is ready for peace as long as Jeff is still breathing."

"What he said," Jensen nodded. 

"You're gonna keep 'em safe, right?" Allie asked, putting her hand on Jensen's arm. Jensen stilled and looked at her.

"I'm not really bothered about keeping Collins safe, but Jeff, he's my family. I'll do all I can to protect Jeff."

Allie smiled and then stood on tip toes and gave Jensen a peck on the cheek before running off. Jensen watched her disappear between the tents and then looked at Jared.

"Guess I gotta talk to her when I'm back," Jensen noted. Jared nodded, serious.

"Guess you do."

When he saw Jensen's panicked look he burst out laughing. 

"That was priceless, man." Jensen shook his head disapprovingly but couldn't keep a smile from forming. 

"C'mon, I think for once I really wanna have beans and toast for breakfast," Jensen finally grinned and slapped Jared's shoulder before heading to the camp fire. Jared jogged a few steps to catch up.

"I hope you're gonna be careful, Jensen. If it's really a trap, this could get nasty. No way Mark's only gonna have one ally with him," Jared warned.

"I know, Jay. Believe me, I know."

 

*****

 

When the small group was mounting up about an hour later, Jared was watching from the camp fire. He had talked to Jeff, suggested he'd come along, too, to help Jensen keep an eye on them. But Jeff had refused.

"If this is a trap, there are several ways it can go. If we leave with many guns, they might just wait until we're well gone and then attack a short handed camp. I need you here. Jensen can handle being lookout alone."

Jared had seen Jeff's point, but he still didn't feel comfortable. He longed to go to Jensen, to hug and kiss him, but he knew he had to settle for hoping he'd be back safe and sound in the evening.

As soon as Jeff, Misha and Jensen were out of sight, Matt came to sit next to Jared.

"Hey man," Matt greeted. "You look worried. You convinced there's a trap in there somewhere?"

Jared nodded. "Sure of it. If Jeff wasn't up Misha's ass so much he'd also see it."

"That's strong words there," Matt prompted.

"But they're true. Jensen sees it, Jim and Kim see it, even Allie does. So why doesn't Jeff? Why does he have to try? We're holding our own here just fine." Jared sighed. It was quiet for a few moments. Then Matt got up and started walking over towards where Shephard prepared the stew. 

"It'll be fine, I'm sure of it. Jeff knows what he's doing."

"I really hope so," Jared muttered and then proceeded to get out some gun oil and clean his weapons.

 

*****

 

After riding for a few hours, Jeff and his companions finally got close to Tatanka Pass. Most of the ride had been done in silence, Misha saying a few things over to Jeff, but Jeff hadn't been in a very talkative mood. He was trying to figure out several things. What did Mark really want? How would the meeting go? Was Jensen maybe right about the trap?

Misha had caught on finally and kept his mouth shut, riding alongside the older man with confidence. Jensen made up the rear cover of their small group, keeping a few horse lengths behind, eyes taking in all of their surroundings. The closer they got to the pass, the more vigilant Jensen became.

"Jeff," Jensen suddenly called. Jeff turned around and saw Jensen watching the ridge of the cliffs to their left. On the very top a handful of riders were watching their progress on the path. "Think those are Pellegrino's men?"

"Hm, too far off to tell," Jeff replied. "Could just be coincidence."

"I don't like being watched," Jensen grumbled.

"Don't worry," Misha cut in. "Soon you'll be doing the watching."

They kept on for another mile before reaching the fork that would split their ways.

"Right, boys," Jeff called, pulling his horse to a stop. "Why don't you head up on the pass, Jensen? Find a spot on the plateau and don't forget to bring the Rolling Block Rifle. You can watch what's going on below through the scope. See something fishy, you shoot. Understood?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I gotta say I still don't like it. Really not." Jensen pulled the rifle from the saddle holster and let Rascal walk a few steps in his new direction.

"Still so negative," Misha sneered. "How about you grow a pair and have some faith in Jeff's plans."

"Oh, I have faith, just not in you. This plan, it's yours," Jensen replied coldly. Then he looked at Jeff. "Catch you later."

Jensen rode until he reached the foremost top of the plateau and let Rascal stay by a few brush before walking on to find a good spot to observe the plains thirty feet below. Some vegetation provided sufficiant cover and soon he had settled in a fairly comfortable prone position with a perfect view on the plains.

He adjusted the scope and immediately took to scanning the area. Two riders entered his field of vision and he instantly recognized Mark Pellegrino. The pair rode on a few yards before dismounting and waiting. Jensen knew Jeff wasn't far off and let the scope pan to his right. 

Only a minute later, Jeff and Misha entered his sight and Jensen tensed involuntarily. Briefly dropping the rifle, he pushed back his hat a bit and took in the complete scene below. He would revert back to watching through the scope once Jeff and Misha were close enough for him to have everybody in view via the scope.

Being up that high meant there was no way Jensen could make out anything that was said below, but for a while things seemed to be like Misha had advertized. Jensen hadn't been able to detect any hidden men and judging by Jeff's expression and gestures he was actually talking to Mark.

The tensions slowly ebbed from Jensen's body but it didn't make him let off his vigilance. He kept scanning the surroundings of the foursome below when suddenly a faint noise like brush scraping against leather reached his ear. 

Adrenalin rushed his system and Jensen pushed up on his arms to turn around, but it was too late. He only had a split second to take in his attacker before the butt of a rifle came rushing in, knocking him full over the head. Pain exploded in his skull and then everything turned black.


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

A sharp throbbing in his head greeted Jensen as he surfaced, but cracking his eyes open only worsened everything. The ground was swimming around him and nausea rose up to his throat, making him feel ready to puke his guts up. Letting the lids slide shut again didn't help much. The throbbing in his head merely intensified and Jensen attempted to hold it still where it was dangling on his shoulders. His arms, however, wouldn't co-operate. Jensen wanted to find out why they wouldn't move, but opening his eyes once more just brought on another bout of vertigo and nausea and he aborted the mission.

The swaying continued and eventually it became clear to Jensen that he was hanging face down over the rear of a horse. He tried one more time to lift his head, open his eyes, to take in his surroundings but failed. His head was too heavy and his eyelids felt like lead. When he abandoned the effort it wasn't long before the darkness claimed him again.

The next time he came around the swaying had stopped altogether. His eyelids still felt heavy and simply refused to co-operate so Jensen concentrated on everything else. He was lying on the ground, dirt and dry grass pressed against his cheeks. He felt some rope around his wrists and smelled the smoke from a camp fire. Someone was talking, others were laughing, but nothing was really clear.

After just concentrating on breathing for a while, Jensen decided to try his eyes again. The left one opened fairly easy but the other felt like something glued the lids together. If the metallic taste in his mouth was anything to go by, it was blood. Finally succeeding in prying both eyes open, Jensen almost immediately regretted the move because the pounding in his head was back with a vengeance. A couple of deep breaths later the throbbing dulled down and Jensen could focus on taking in his surroundings.

As he had deduced, he was on the ground. About ten steps away he saw the backs of some Pellegrino men, maybe three or four, sitting around their fire. It was still daylight, but fading. The horses Jensen couldn't see but he heard them somewhere nearby. Tentatively moving his arms, Jensen found his wrists were tied behind his back but not overly tight. Maybe he could wriggle them free. If he could make his way to the horses, he'd have a chance to escape.

Moving and turning his wrists succeded in loosening the ties even more and after a few minutes of quiet effort, Jensen managed to slip one hand free. Carefully he pulled up his leg so he could try for his knife hidden in the boot, provided they hadn't found it. The second his fingertips touched the handle, Jensen's heart began beating faster. This was it, he had a chance. Closing his fingers around the handle, he pulled the knife free and then brought his elbows underneath his body and began to crawl away, headed towards the stomping of the hooves. He'd made it a few yards when a shout alerted the men at the fire.

"He's getting away, guys!"

The shout had come from the direction of the horses and a moment later Jensen felt himself pinned to the ground by a boot between his shoulderblades.

"Trying to run back to Jeff, Ackles?" The man pinning him cackled. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that. Mark still has plans for ya, he does."

The boot was removed and replaced with a fist grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him up. Jensen made use of the momentum to twist himself around in the grip, swinging the knife and burying it in the man's upper arm until it hit the bone. The man screamed and dropped him onto his back. Immediately the sound of a gun being cocked sounded next to him and within an eye blink the cold metal of the gun was pressed against his forehead.

"Seamus, no!"

A voice from the left called with authority and the man holding the gun stilled, breathing heavy enough for Jensen to feel it in his face.

"Sonofabitch stabbed Joey," the gunman shouted back. 

"Mark wants him alive and in one piece, Seamus," the man replied. "Just tie him up again, but do it right."

"Yeah, do it right, Seamus," Jensen mumbled with a grin.

"You shut up, scarface, or I'm gonna cut your balls off," was the snarled reply. "Guess what you'll be doing then at the whore house."

Jensen's eyes narrowed. He wasn't gonna let a chickenshit Pellegrino insult him like that. The moment the pressure of the gun relented, he hauled a bloodied blob of spit at the man's face and pushed up to his elbows, ready to fight. The blow of the fist holding the gun caught him side on and he felt his mouth filling with fresh blood. The second blow was aimed at his temple, sending him back to oblivion.

 

*****

 

The sun was getting ready to set when Jeff and Misha returned to camp. Kenny was standing guard, frowning when only the two returned. Maybe Jeff had sent Jensen on another mission. The two men dismounted and Misha immediately checked out the big pot for stew. Jeff walked to his tent and threw his hat on the cot, a smile on his lips.

"How did it go?"

Turning around, Jeff saw Jared walking up to him, glancing around the camp after posing his question.

"Actually lots better than I expected, my boy. It's not really a peace contract, but definitely a truce. One less thing to worry about for now."

Jared looked at him and nodded.

"Good." 

Then his eyes were back to scanning the camp, only briefly resting on Misha, who was wolfing down the stew.

"Where's Jensen?"

"What?" Jeff glanced at him, puzzled.

"Jensen. The guy you practically raised alongside me, green eyes, cougar scars, a touch taller than you? Where is he?" Jared made no effort to hide his annoyance.

"I know who Jensen is, Jared. Where should he be? Probably off running an errand. I don't know. He's not a kid anymore, you know."

"You don't know where he is? Because he didn't say?" Jared's confusion mingled with his annoyance and began boiling down to an outright anger.

"He didn't meet up with us after the pow-wow, alright? Everything ran smoothly and I assume he just went to do whatever he likes. Hunting deer, chasing skirts, I don't care." Jeff was glaring at Jared and his rising voice drew other gang members on the plan, particularly Misha.

"Are you really telling me you don't find it odd that after a meeting with Pellegrino, that is Mark 'I-will-kill-him-once-I-catch-him' Pellegrino, Jensen fails to report back? Do you really think that Jensen, after practically screaming out loud that he thinks the whole gig is a trap, would chose not to reconnect with his family before going on an errand? I just can't believe you!" Jared was seething.

Jeff took a step back and then slowly crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"You trying to tell me I don't care? Cos I do, Jared. I do! Jensen is like a son to me. You know that. I would do anything for him. But he's a grown man, Jared. The meeting went well. He watched it from the ledge, saw it went well and probably decided to go his own way. He'll be back. He's fine. I promise." 

Jared scoffed, shaking his head.

"You can't promise that, Jeff. You can't!"

"Look," Jeff negotiated. "How about this. If Jensen's not back by tomorrow night, we go looking for him first thing in the morning. How's that sound?"

"Fuck, Jeff, if the Pellegrinos have him that's a fucking day too late!" Jared growled.

"Why don't you chill out, mop head?" Misha barged in. "Jeff is right, you know. What do you even care? Barely ten days ago you were trying to stab the man with your dagger looks."

"You shut up, Collins! You have no idea what's going on. Not about the Pellegrinos and not about us. So shut up, or I'll make you!" Underlining his words, Jared clenched his fists.

"Jared," Jeff said warningly. "Cool it."

"It's alright, Jeff. Let the boy talk. I'd love to see him try. I'm not scared of a kid that just realized his only shot at happiness is a scar faced milksop."

Whether Misha had finished talking or not made no difference because Jared closed the distance between them in two quick steps and punched his fist with lightning speed into Misha's temple. The older man spun around from the force of the blow and crumpled to the ground like a bag of potatos.

"Jared!" Jeff shouted angrily, looking at the knocked out man on the ground and then back at a fuming Jared.

Jared stared at Misha, breathing heavily, and before Jeff could call his name a second time, he turned around and stormed off. If Jeff wouldn't look for Jensen, then he'd do it alone. With determination, Jared trudged towards the horses.

"Jared," a female voice called after him and when he turned, he saw Allie hurrying towards him. "Do you really think something has happened to him?"

Jared took a deep breath and let go of the stirrup straps he'd been fiddling with.

"I don't know, Allie. I hope Jeff is right, but I have a very bad feeling. The truce with the Pellegrinos? If something sounds too good to be true..."

"... it probably is," Allie completed his sentence. "So, you're really gonna ride out now? It'll be dark soon. How do you think you'll manage to find him?"

Jared was quiet for a moment. Then he shrugged.

"No idea. But I can't just sit here and wait."

"Why?" Allie asked innocently.

"Why?" Jared parroted. "Because Jensen not reporting back after a potential trap is a freaking red flag, Allie. No matter what Jeff says. And every second we wait is a second too many."

Jared turned back to his task of getting Arrow's saddle ready. When he was happy, he pulled an apple from the saddle bag and offered it to the horse. Taking the reins he swung himself into the saddle and turned his steed, but had to stop short right away because Allie was still there, blocking the way.

"Whatcha doing here still?" 

Allie stepped aside to stand next to him, hand patting Arrow's neck. 

"Just... bring him back in one piece, okay?" 

 

*****

 

An ice cold sensation pulled Jensen from the darkness and he gapsed involuntarily. His ears were buzzing in sync with the rapid thumping of his heart and when it died down, he could hear laughter. Water ran into his open mouth making him realize that his captors must have poured a bucket full on him. Rough fingers grabbed his jaw and his eyes flew open with a grunt.

"Hey there, princess," a voice matching the fingers drawled. "You finally slept out? We're getting bored here."

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut, certain that two dirty, toothless grins in front of him couldn't be right. When he opened them once more, the faces had merged to one, but only stayed that way for a brief moment before drifting apart again. Nevertheless Jensen let his gaze wander to check out his surroundings.

He was sitting in a wooden chair, arms tied to the armrests, four pairs of twins hovering around. It was dark, the room only alight by a few lanterns but as far as Jensen could tell, there were no windows in the room. No way to tell what time of day it was. Close by his knife was sticking out from a table, almost mocking him. It was close enough to reach if he stretched his arms, but of course the ropes prevented the mere attempt. To Jensen's right a set of stairs lead upwards. He was in some kind of a storm cellar.

"S'rry to disapp'nt," Jensen rasped, tongue thick. His head felt heavy and he gave up trying to hold it up. Gaptooth was having none of it, though, pulling his head right up by his hair.

"No sleep, ya hear? There's someone here who wants to talk to you." Gaptooth turned to one of his companions. "Go tell him Morgan's prized pony is awake... of sorts."

Jensen struggled to keep his eyes open, trying to figure out a way to escape this situation. He was pretty sure who that man was going to bring, and Mark Pellegrino was undoubtedly going to take out his anger at Jeff on him.

Measured footsteps came down the stairs and continued right up to Jensen. Jensen took a deep breath and squared his jaw before lifting his head slightly to glare defiantly at Mark. The fingers in his hair disappeared and Jensen intensified his glare, determined not to show any weakness.

"Look who we have here," Mark started, sounding way too smug and confident for Jensen's liking. "If it isn't Morgan's little lap dog. Though I gotta say, you've grown, Ackles. Last time I seen you close up, you were but a scrawny pup."

"Wish I c'd say 'ts good ta see ya," Jensen replied with a slight slur. "But y' sight makes m' eyes hurt."

"Cocky, aren't you? Didn't Jeff teach you any manners?" Mark tutted disapprovingly. Jensen gave a strangled laugh.

"Y' don' really d'serve 'em manners," he grinned. Mark's smile faltered for a moment but he managed to restrain himself.

"Talking big, are you? Well, let's see how long that holds up. You know, you might be banking on Jeff showing up to get ya out, but... he doesn't even know you're missing," Mark gloats.

"He'll fin' out," Jensen replied. " 'n when he does, there'll be hell t' pay."

"Oh, I hope he does," Mark grinned. "I hope he shows up here, guns blazing, all hands on deck to get his prized pony out. Wouldn't that be great?" 

Mark's men started laughing and Jensen's brain furiously tried to work out what was wrong with the picture. And then it clicked.

" 's a trap. Imma bait, ain't I? Jeff... won' be stupid 'nough t' fall for it." At least that's what Jensen hoped.

"I see the knocks didn't rattle your brain too much. You're correct, this whole pow-wow about peace," -Mark practically spat that word-, "was merely a distraction to get my hands on you. You're important to Jeff. He'll bring all his men. And when he does, them Pinkertons will capture each and every single one of you."

"Pinkert'ns?" Jensen frowned. 

"Yeah, well, you know, they're not just on your heels. They're on ours too. So I was thinking if they get their hands on Jeff and all his Morgan gang, they forget about me. About us! Convenient, isn't it?"

Jensen wasn't sure he was hearing right. Mark Pellegrino working with the Pinkertons? His mind was racing. It was a trap for Jeff. And Jared, Kenny, Allie, all of them. He had to get away, had to warn them.

" 's not c'min'," Jensen slurred in an attempt to make Mark doubt his plan.

"Oh, I think he is. You know, Jensen, you're his best gun. Loyal lap dog. God, you should have seen yourself following him around like a lost puppy when he picked you up. And Jeff, he was just as bad, even held your scrawny ass' value higher than my brother's life." Mark's voice had picked up in volume and venom. Jensen kept quiet, for once not knowing what Mark was getting at. Or maybe his battered brain just couldn't make the connection. Mark let out a forced laugh.

"And all because of that cursed pistol."

Now Jensen was sure his brain wasn't following. The pistol. He only remembered one incident with Mike Pellegrino and a pistol. It had happened about a year after Jeff had taken in Jensen. They had been raiding a homestead. Jensen had found a semi-automatic pistol hidden underneath a loose floorboard. Mike had asked to look at it and never returned it.

Jensen had complained about it to Jeff after Jeff had returned from his own mission several days thereafter. Jensen had wanted the pistol because it would be the first one he really owned. As far as he knew, Jeff had talked with Mike, and a few days later the two men got into a real shouting match. Mike drew his gun and fired at Jeff, but missed. Jeff on the other hand didn't. Jensen had gotten the pistol and Mark and Jeff had split ways. When Jensen had asked what they'd been fighting about, Jeff had only mentioned it was something that had to be settled between men, so Jensen had gone on assuming it had been over a woman. Now, he was not so sure anymore.

"You look surprised, Ackles. Surely you remember that pistol. If I'm not mistaken it's among the weapons we've taken off you," Mark stated. "You know, I've always wanted to take revenge for my brother. That's why having you here like this is all the sweeter. I'm gonna enjoy cutting you to ribbons, but... I still need the right audience, don't you think? Just imagine how it'll be for Jeff to watch his favorite pet being killed in front of him before I deliver him to the Pinkertons."

Mark had stepped closer while he talked and with the last words even bent down to watch the panic in Jensen's eyes. But Jensen wasn't feeling panic, not now. He was getting angry. Mark's face was so close their noses almost touched and when he gave a vicious laugh, Jensen just reacted. Like sprung from a coil he headbutted the other man, exhilarated when he saw blood spurting from Mark's busted nose. He started laughing, pleased with himself, until a sudden pain in his guts made him groan. Dropping his eyes he realized Mark had punched him in the stomach and he was just in time to see the second blow coming before the third went to his head and Jensen lost track of his surroundings.

An indefinite time later he opened his eyes again. Spitting out some blood that had collected in his mouth left him able to breathe easier. Jensen looked around and found he was alone in the cellar. Still bound to the chair. And still with his knife impaled in the table nearby. This was it. He had to get away, had to warn Jared. And Jeff. 

Taking as deep a breath as possible, Jensen began moving in the chair, rocking it gently, trying to inch it closer to the table and his lifeline, the knife. After about two minutes of rocking and moving, Jensen could just about reach the handle with his fingertips. He gritted his teeth and renewed his efforts and finally his fingers closed around the handle.

Giving it a jerk, he pulled the knife free and then worked it up so he could grab it with his teeth. Moving his head in a way to have the knife sow through the loose rope proved to be tricky but after another few minutes, Jensen succeeded. The ropes fell away from his right hand and he immediately gripped it to free his other hand, too.

Jensen allowed himself a moment to carefully take a deep breath and closed his eyes in an attempt to stop the cellar from spinning around him. It only partially worked, but he could not afford the luxury of taking his time. He pushed up into a standing position and immediately stretched out his arms to brace on the table. The vertigo had spiked up but he willed it down, using his left arm to steady himself along the wall while his right was tightly clenched around his weapon.

Taking the first step towards freedom, Jensen noticed he was missing his boots. A quick inventory showed, he was missing everything but for his jeans and the torn remnants of his shirt. There was nothing he could do to change this, so he took a few more steps towards the stairs leading out of his prison.

Muffled voices from above could be heard and Jensen paused a moment to determine where they came from. He couldn't make out any words, but he guessed it was three of them talking, from either side of the staircase. Slowly he snuck up the steps until he reached the top which was located in a tiny hut that seemed to just exist to shelter the entrance to the cellar.

Flattening himself against the wall, Jensen took in the starlit night sky and thanked whatever was out there for the respite. Mostly darkness, but for the faint light of the moon and stars, would help his escape immensely. After waiting a short time, he heard the Pellegrinos talk again. Sounded like they had ventured a bit from the cellar.

"Do you think Mark will let us have some more fun with Morgan's pet later?" One voice asked.

"Oh, I hope, but he wants to keep him alive till Morgan gets here, so there's that. I wish...," the man talking had been walking away and around the corner with his companion and the rest of his words were lost.

"Don't be too long," another voice from the other side of the cellar called after them. "Or I might get tempted to seek some fun downstairs." The man guffawed at his words and leaned on the wall. Jensen silently took two steps to get behind the man and then wrapped his left arm tightly around his throat, cutting off the air to prevent the man from calling out. After a short struggle Jensen brought down his fist with the hem of the knife as fortification and slammed it into the Pellegrino's temple. The man crumpled to the ground, out cold. Quickly, Jensen patted the man down and was glad to come across some throwing knives that he quickly attained.

Not waiting for the others to return, Jensen turned into the direction they had left and took cover at the corner of the small building. Peeking around it, he saw a camp fire not far away, two more cowboys sitting there. One was chewing on some meat, the other was nursing a bottle of moonshine. To the right, in the edge of the fire light, he saw a battered open shack containing the horses.

Blinking his eyes once more to make sure there was no double vision, Jensen gripped one throwing knife by its blade and stepped forward. He only really had one shot at this. If he missed, they'd know he's out there and he was pretty sure he couldn't take both of them on at the same time.

Jensen took aim at the one stripping the bone with his teeth. He took a steadying breath and released the knife. The swish of it through the air was the only noise Jensen heard until the knife buried itself in the man's back and he toppled over, knocking down the grill. The sudden noise startled the other man and he took the bottle off his lips to briefly stare at his companion before swirling his head around when he saw the knife. But it was too late. Jensen's second knife came already whirring through the air, coming to a stop in the moonshiner's chest. The bottle dropped and an instant later the man followed.

Not wasting any time, because he didn't know if there were more around, Jensen stumbled towards the horses. A familiar snicker greeted him and Jensen's face lit up with a grin.

"Hey boy," he smiled. "Did ya miss me?" He patted Rascal's neck, seeing that not only was he still saddled up but also carrying all his weapons. "Did ya give'm hell, boy? Let nobody touch ya, eh?"

Jensen fumbled in the saddlebag and produced a wild carrot that he fed his trusted steed. He grabbed onto the saddlehorn and pulled himself up.

"Ready t' get outta here, boy?"

Rascal snorted in agreement and immediately went into a canter heading away from camp. They hadn't gotten far yet when suddenly bullets came flying their way. Apparently the man Jensen had knocked out had regained his senses, and a revolver. Jensen grunted when he felt a burning sensation on his right arm. He pulled a rifle from his saddle and blindly fired some shots behind him. There was no more return fire and Jensen urged Rascal to a faster pace.

"Take me home, boy," he mumbled, gripping one hand tightly to the horn when the vertigo returned to send the stars spinning in the sky.

 

******

 

Jared had been riding all night, headed to Tatanka Pass to see if he could find any tracks that would give him a clue to what happened. He had feared having to wait till dawn to search the area in question, but no clouds in the sky meant he could take advantage of the light from the stars and the almost full moon.

It took him longer than he liked to locate the spot Jensen had chosen to observe the meeting with the Pellegrinos. The tracks were faint and scuffed up, but they were there. On the spot Jared would have picked to crouch low there were a few dark stains in the dirt. Jared couldn't be certain it was blood, but when he let his gaze wander over the adjacent brush, he froze.

Stretching out his hand he retrieved a familiar object that was stuck in the shrubs and his heart sank. It was Jensen's hat. There was no way to mistake it. Worn, weathered leather with a cord of braided horse hair around it. Jared had watched him fabricate it with hair from Rascal's tail after the old rope around it had been sliced by that cougar, leaving a gouge in the leather as well.

With a sigh, Jared tied Jensen's hat to his saddle and scouted the area for prints that would lead him in the direction they had taken him. By now the first rays of sunlight were making their way over the horizon and Jared soon came across a set of prints of four or five horses, heading west. Whistling for Arrow, Jared mounted and followed the tracks as fast as he could.

He'd been riding almost half an hour when he came across the remnants of a campsite. The ash was cold, though, but there were more stains now easily identified as blood on a spot nearby. The tracks suggested there'd been a struggle of sort and Jared quickly detected the new set of markings, still heading west.

He rode on, rising sun in his back, when after about ten minutes a shape peeled from the twilight in front of him. It was a horse, a black horse, carefully carrying some sort of luggage. Jared spurred Arrow on, trepidation surfacing along with anticipation.

"Rascal," Jared gasped when he was certain it was his friend's horse. Rascal stopped and lifted his head abruptly, causing the load he carried to dislodge and slide to the ground with a thump and a groan.

"Jensen!"

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

"Jensen!"

Seeing Jensen topple off his horse like a rag doll spurred Jared into action. He jumped off Arrow and ran the last steps to kneel by Jensen's side. For a moment, Jared's world seemed to stand still when he took in Jensen's condition.

The shirt he'd been wearing was littered with tears and dried stains that could only be blood. His vest was missing altogether, along with his gun belt and the boots. Funny enough, like a glance at Rascal confirmed, all the weapons Jensen had had on his horse seemed to be accounted for. 

The man himself looked battered and bruised, dried blood not only on his clothes but also matting his hair and coloring his skin. Jared rested his hand lightly on Jensen's chest, revelling in the movement of his breathing.

"Jensen?"

Jensen's eyelids fluttered and finally he opened his eyes, squinting as he attempted to focus on his surroundings. When his gaze came to rest on Jared, he blinked and the swallowed.

"J'red, 's a trap."

His eyes lost what little focus they had and Jared frowned. He didn't like the way Jensen's pupils weren't equal size and drifting cross just before Jensen gave up on keeping them open.

"I hear you. C'mon, buddy, let's get you to camp."

Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen's shoulders, helping him sit up. The second Jensen got vertical, however, his eyes flew open in panic and Jared had just enough time to help him turn before he brought up whatever bile mixed with blood had collected in his stomach. When Jensen was done heaving and spitting, he moaned pitifully.

"Jus' kill m' now."

Jared's worry shot up a notch for this was just so unlike Jensen.

"Nobody's gonna kill you. I'm gonna see to that. What on earth did they do to you?"

"Knock'd m' out," Jensen mumbled.

"How often?"

"D'nno... two, three t'mes," Jensen shrugged and groaned. "Punch'd ma gut, too."

"Any broken ribs?"

Jensen just shrugged again.

" 'kay, ge' me up," he then said. Jared didn't want to but he knew they had to get out of there in case he was being followed. He whistled for Arrow. When the mare came to stand by his side, he supported Jensen to his feet.

" 's not my horse," Jensen grunted as he stabilized on Arrow's neck, hand fisting in her mane.

"Rascal is right here, but I'm not gonna let you get on your horse alone just to fall off again. So come on, I'll give you a hand up."

Jensen sighed and relented. The way his vision was still wavering, Jared was probably right. Up on the horse his first instinct was to grab hold of the saddle horn. Then he realized he'd have to back up some to give Jared space. When he began moving backwards however, Jared's hand between his shoulder blades stopped him.

"No, you stay put. I'll get up behind you."

" 'm not a child, Jar'd," Jensen protested.

"No. But you are hurt. And if you sit behind me and pass out, there's nothing I can do to stop you from falling and knocking your head again. So get over it, tough guy." Jared's voice sounded a bit sterner than he intended, but he certainly wasn't going to risk aggravating Jensen's concussion if he fell once more. Grabbing hold of the saddle, Jared swung himself up behind Jensen and collected the reins.

"C'mon Rascal, keep up," he called to the black stallion who lifted his head and snorted in confusion. Then Jared gently kicked Arrow into a trot, one hand around Jensen's waist to steady him. If push came to shove and he'd have to get his guns, he'd sacrifice the reins rather than his grip on Jensen. Arrow was so used to him, she would still obey every bit of guidance he offered.

After about ten minutes they reached the river and Jared steered the horses inside to help obscuring their tracks. It was a ford, which helped even more for there were many tracks leading in and out and Jared decided that instead of crossing, as the Pellegrinos might assume he does, for their last known location was across the river, he would ride along the shore line for a mile or as long as the river would allow it. Only then he would find a suitable spot to cross safely.

Jensen had been quiet so far, fists still gripping the saddle horn tightly. Jared noticed however every now and then he would lean a bit more heavily into him or be unbalanced to the extent that Jared was glad his arm was still around Jensen's waist to hold him upright.

Arrow was moving more slowly in the water, making sure the ground was stable before setting her hooves down, so their progress was slow. Finally, Jared estimated they had put enough distance between them and the ford and scrutinized the current for a good spot to cross. 

Suddenly Jensen tensed in his arms and Jared had to be alert to react because Jensen unexpectedly turned sideways in an effort to not puke on them or the horse. Managing to keep both of them in the saddle, Jared waited until the heaving subsided and then swiftly crossed over. Back on dry land, he stopped Arrow and dismounted.

"C'mon, Jensen. Rest up."

 Helping his friend down, Jared frowned as Jensen immediately took to hugging the ground. He laid stretched out, eyes half mast, breathing ruggedly. 

"Jensen?"

"Dizzy. Ev'thing's spinn'n'," he half slurred, half mumbled. "G'mme time."

Jared sighed, looking back up the river. Everything was clear. He could afford to let Jensen rest a bit.

"Sure," he agreed.

"Ja'ed?"

"Hm?"

" 's a trap."

"I know, Jensen. We both thought so. And you already said it," Jared replied.

"Damn Pin'tons," Jensen rambled on.

"Pinkertons? I thought Pellegrino had you," Jared was on high alert again.

"Did. Bust'd his ugly nose," Jensen's words were slightly less slurred now. "Guess he th'n busted me, too."

"You're busted alright," Jared agreed but now he was none the wiser about who really had held Jensen. It would be best to get them back to the relative safety of their camp before trying to figure out just what Jensen was talking about.

"Right, cowboy, up you go. We need to beat it."

It took slightly longer to get Jensen on Arrow this time around and when Jared finally was seated behind him in proven fashion, Jensen was back to rambling softly.

"H'd hurts."

"I bet it does. You got lumps and cuts all over you and I'm sure you'll look black and blue all over in the morning. Now, shut up and let's find our way to your cot, eh?"

A whistle had Rascal get in motion behind them and this time, Jared chose a gentle gallop. He just prayed that they could get the remainder of their distance done without another break.

 

*****

 

Matt Cohen was wiping the sweat off his brow. This was his first time chopping wood as usually Jensen, Jared or Kenny took on this task. Since Jensen was still on an errand, according to Jeff and Misha, and Jared had left to search for him, Matt had taken the axe when Mark Sheppard had been shouting for more firewood.

Admittedly, he had hesitated a moment, looking around for Kenny, but then he remembered that he had taken Alex out up the lake to a good fishing spot. Jeff's order never to leave camp alone still applied. At least to the newest members of their group.

Kim Rhodes had worked the miracle that was old Jim carrying some blocks over to throw them on the fire. Matt wondered if she had used a bribe. Then his gaze fell on Allie who was sitting on a log in front of her tent, staring daggers at Jeff and Misha. He remembered how Jensen had told him about her being like his little sister. Well, to him and Kenny and even Alex it was obvious that Allie was carrying a torch for Jensen. How didn't he see that? With a shrug, Matt placed another piece of wood on the chopping block and lifted the axe.

"Careful, don't hurt yourself, young one," Misha's voice floated over. Apparently his talk with Jeff was over and the man sauntered past him, heading to the horses. Matt just rolled his eyes and swung the axe, splitting the wood neatly in half. Misha whistled mockingly.

"Damn, now I'm impressed. And you did it all with your shirt on, unlike some people."

"Piss off, Collins," Rich shouted from guard duty. "Go ride down a cliff, will ya? Saves us all some trouble."

"Really, Rich?" Jeff cut in. Rich grinned and shrugged.

"Just making conversation, boss."

Matt snorted softly and put the axe aside. The wood he had split should last through the night. He walked to the bucket for some water and watched as Misha left camp.

"Really dunno why Jeff is so taken with him," Ruthie said as she joined Matt for water. "Jensen has a point. He does mess up a lot of gigs, even if he found them to start with."

"Yeah well, I dunno either. I just hope Jeff sees he is putting us all to risk by keeping him so close," Matt replied. With a smile he left Ruthie and headed for his tent for a small reprieve. Allie had joined Kim Rhodes to fix a few torn shirts, but Matt could tell she was more focused on listening for familiar hoofbeats.

Over short there was an unfamiliar appetizing smell whafting from Sheppard's stew pot and for a moment Matt thought, Ruthie had cooking duty. One glance however told him, it was really Mark Sheppard manning the pot. Curiosity peaked, Matt got up to stroll over but he never made it because as soon as he had taken a handful of steps he heard Rich shouting.

"Halt! Who's there?"

"Rich? It's us, gimme a hand, please," Jared's voice called out.

"What? What's wrong with him?"

As Matt crossed over to join them, he saw Rich grabbing Jensen's slumped over form as Jared slowly released him and then got off his steed to help Rich.

"Misha's stupid plan is wrong with him," Jared growled in reply. "It was a fucking trap!"

"Shit," Rich cursed, grabbing Jensen's arm as the man began wobbling. "What do you mean? The other two are perfectly fine."

Jared pulled Jensen's one arm around his neck and shoulder with Rich following suit. Looking up he noticed Matt approaching.

"Hey man, can you get Arrow and Rascal over to the others and see that they're fed?"

"Sure," Matt replied, taking in Jensen's bruised up appearance and semi conscious state. As curious as he was to find out what happened to him, he knew some things had to be done first. As Jared and Rich got Jensen to the cot in his tent, Jeff had finally noticed the commotion and made his way across camp. 

"My god, what happened to him?" He called as he set eyes on Jensen.

"Pellegrinos," Jared replied through clenched teeth, already working on getting the rag of a shirt out of the way to check on any kind of injuries Jensen might have suffered that were hidden. "Obviously the truce you so lauded is nothing but a farce. And you didn't believe him. You didn't even find it odd that he didn't report back before _not_ setting off on an errand."

"How was I to know?" Jeff frowned. "There were no indications."

"No indications? Every fucking person here told you it was a trap, but all you heard were Misha's words. When did what we are thinking become dispensable?" Jared's ire was easily heard throughout the camp and soon Kim Rhodes, with Allie right behind, pitched up at the tent. Jeff stared down at Jensen, who was holding his head and breathing rapidly. He felt horrible and yet he didn't know what to do or say.

Allie was biting her hand when she saw Jensen and Kim quickly sent her for a bucket of water, some rags and bandages. Pushing past Jeff, she knelt down next to Jensen and put her hand on his arm. Jensen withdrew his hand from his eyes and looked at her.

" 'm okay," he mumbled with a crooked smile.

"Sure you are," Kim nodded, humoring him. "And I'm the pope. Jared? Tell me what you know."

Jared opened his mouth to comply but before he could utter a word, Jensen took on a sickly green color and pressed his lips together. Quickly, Kim grabbed a bucket and shoved it into Jensen's arms before helping him to turn quick enough to not bring up bile all over himself.

"That's the third time already," Jared mumbled.

When Jensen was done and settled back on his cot, Kim's practised hands were doing all kinds of tests.

"Well, he's warm, his pupils are wide and uneven, pretty sure he got a concussion to go with all the bruises. He should drink some, but only a few sips at a time or he'll bring it up right away."

"He told me they knocked him out a few times," Jared nodded.

"They?" Jeff asked. Jared still glared at him but knew that antagonizing the man now would not help his friend.

"Pellegrinos, I think. Although he was also rambling about Pinktertons, so I can't be sure.," Jared explained.

"Not sure? You don't know where you got him out?"

"He got himself out, Jeff. When I found him he was just falling off Rascal, passed out. I don't wanna imagine what could have happened had I listened to you and waited."

Jeff was quiet. He had heard Jared's allegation loud and clear. And he couldn't even blame him. As he racked his brain how to reply, Kim Rhodes manually pushed him a few feet away so Allie could bring the items she had requested.

"Why don't you two discuss your differences elsewhere," she said, also giving Jared a stern look. Jared looked at Jensen who was trying to get rid of the wet cloth that Allie had placed on his forehead. "Now!"

Reluctantly, Jared turned and walked off. He wasn't happy leaving Jensen even though he knew he was in good hands. Jeff followed him as he walked to the camp fire.

 

*****

 

When Jensen woke up it was dark. Not pitch black, but definitely night. The light of the moon and some of the camp fire's glare illuminated the camp somewhat, and he could hear the horses stomping and some subdued chatter from the camp fire. 

His head wasn't throbbing any longer and Jensen sat up, or at least he tried to. Two hands on his shoulders made sure he didn't succeed, however.

"Stay down, you still need to rest," a female voice ordered. Jensen squinted and turned his head.

"Allie?" He rasped.

"Yeah, your head is pretty messed up. Mrs. Rhodes said not to let you sit up for you might puke again."

"Right," Jensen mumbled. "Can I have something to drink?"

Immediately, Allie supported him somewhat and offered him a mug of water. Jensen took a few sips and then started a new attempt at sitting up. Again, Allie made sure he stayed down. Jensen sighed.

"Where's Jared?"

"Oh, he was butting heads with Jeff and now I think he's in his tent trying to stare holes in it. I really don't wanna be in Misha's shoes when he gets back here," Allie chattered.

"Misha is an idiot. And Jeff is an even bigger one for listening to him," Jensen sighed. "When are you gonna let me up?"

"Have you seen yourself?" Allie asked, eyebrows raised. "Your face is fifty shades of purple and blue, not to mention the few cuts that are just starting to heal. Your torso looks only barely better and your pupils were adopting all kinds of sized but for the same. Add to that the fact that you've been puking your guts up and it won't surprise you when I tell you that Mrs. Rhodes wants you hugging your cot at least till the morning."

Jensen closed his eyes to roll them behind closed lids and then sighed. He was lucky Kim Rhodes wasn't making sure he stayed put herself. She made a mean drill master. Sometimes Jensen almost thought Jeff was afraid of her.

"Can I eat something, Nurse Tal?"

Allie swatted his shoulder at the name.

"Mrs. Rhodes had Ruthie bring some broth," she then declared.

"Broth? How am I supposed to regain my strength with broth?" Jensen groaned.

"Well, she said if you can keep that down you can have some bread and meat, not sooner."

"Fine," Jensen grumped and this time he succeeded sitting up. Allie opened her mouth to tell him off but he beat her to it. "I can't very well eat some broth laying down, and don't even think of offering to feed me. I ain't an infant."

Allie shrugged but kept quiet, only got up to grab the bowl of broth and a spoon for Jensen. 

 

******

 

Jared couldn't sleep. He knew if he had asked to watch Jensen, it would have raised a few eyebrows so unless there were no women around for the tending, he would have to put up with it. But why did it have to be Allie? Couldn't Ruthie watch him? Or Mrs. Rhodes herself?

Getting up, Jared stuffed his hands in his pockets and took the long way over to where the horses were hitched to look after Arrow and Rascal. He saw Jensen sitting on his cot and Allie hovering nearby and chose to ignore it.

Arrow snickered and immediately began searching his pockets for a carrot or some apple. Jared patted her neck and gave her the desired treat before pulling out the brush and beginning to stroke and clean her coat. These kind of thorough grooming sessions they did way not often enough. Jared took his time and when he had finished he found Rascal and started over. Rascal's dark coat was still sticky in some places from dried blood and Jared was determined to get all traces of it out.

Time was passing and before Jared knew it the camp had become mostly quiet and dark. A glance over at Jensen's tent showed all was quiet and Jared sighed before patting Rascal one last time and heading back. He took the short route now and grabbed a bottle of Bourbon from the wagon with the medicines and liquors before trudging over to his cot.

"There you are," a soft voice startled him just as he was about to uncork the bottle. In his tent, on the cot, there was the familiar shape of Jensen sitting. He couldn't see much more than his silhouette but there was no mistaking him.

"What are you doing here," Jared asked equally soft. No need waking anyone around and alerting them to their impromptu nocturnal rendezvous. "I thought Allie is playing watch dog."

"She is," Jensen chuckled. "But she's asleep. I snuck off."

"How's your head?"

"Still throbbing mildly, but the nausea has gone and I'm feeling a lot less like roadkill."

Jared nodded, grinning slightly. 

"You gave me a fright, man. I had found your hat already and I knew something had happened. And when you just dropped off Rascal like a dead weight..." He sighed, not needing to continue.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. The Pellegrinos really have no etiquette when it comes to entertaining guests. How come you were alone when you found me?"

Jared inhaled deeply, looking around camp. Then he started telling his side of the events.

"When Jeff and Misha returned, I immediately asked about you. Jeff seemed unconcerned, Misha was the usual ass and I was this close to exploding in their faces as to how they could not be concerned with you being awol after a meeting with Mark Pellegrino."

Jensen had raised his eyebrows listening and puffed out some air after Jared's last words.

"You're kidding me."

Jared just shook his head. 

"I spelled it out for him. All he said was if you weren't back by nightfall we would go search in the morning. That would have been a whole fucking day too late." 

Jensen was quiet, mulling things over and Jared didn't dare interrupting his thinking. After a few minutes like this, Jensen looked up and into Jared's eyes.

"Thank you for looking for me."

Jared blinked and smiled. 

"Always."

Returning his smile, Jensen pushing himself up on his feet and the bent down to press a kiss on Jared's forehead.

"Where are you going?" Jared asked, looking up. Jensen shrugged with a crooked grin.

"I gotta get back before Allie notices I was gone and turns into a cougar."

Jared nodded.

"You still have to talk to her, you know."

"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "I just dunno how."

"You'll figure it out," Jared replied. "Now go. I'll see you in the morning."

Jensen nodded, still smiling, and then headed back to his tent. Jared watched him leave, moving slowly like he was sore all over, but moving, and Jared knew he would be alright.


End file.
